Of course, I could have actually unfolded the mattress below the cushions that did a piss poor job of supporting my back all night.
But that would have required not just throwing myself onto the nearest flat surface and trying desperately to fall asleep and not think about the woman just beyond the bedroom door.
That last look she gave me just before she closed the door, her gaze soft and longing. I’ve never seen her look at me like that before. That first kiss, I took her by surprise. I know I did. Hell, I took myself by surprise, but afterwards it made a lot of sense. There was always a tension between us, always a lit fuse headed toward dynamite, always on the verge of exploding, but never quite fully detonating. That spark is still there, obviously.
The last remnants of sleep shake away when the bedroom door opens and she steps into the room pulling her suitcase behind her.
“Aren’t you up yet?” she asks, her expression completely devoid of any emotion, like last night never happened. Either she’s an amazing actress or she wasn’t nearly as affected as I was. I almost want to hate her for it.
“Kind of,” I manage to croak out, as I sit up and stretch my neck back and forth, a sharp pain slicing through me with the motion. “What’s going on?”
“I need to get to the airport.”
“What? I thought our flight wasn’t until later tonight?”
“Yours is, I switched mine.”
“Seriously?”
Was she so put off by what happened last night that she doesn’t even want to be on a plane with me back to New York?
“Listen, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I swear I thought . . .”
“It isn’t that. I’m not going back to New York. I want to fly into Phoenix and do some more recent scouting on the guys I told you about last night. They’re a major part of my pitch to ownership on Nakamura and I need to have the most up-to-date information.”
“And I’m not invited?”
“What? No, I just thought . . . I figured after last night you wouldn’t want to . . .”
Ah, so maybe not unaffected, maybe just hiding it really, really well. Until now.
And I kind of want to hate her for that too. I’ve never been able to hide my emotions if they were strong enough, not on the field and not off it. “Didn’t we decide that we were going to do what we had to do to get that ring?”
“Yeah, but . . .”
“No buts,” I cut her off again, and I grin at the way she purses her lips at me. Good, she’s annoyed at me, which means she’ll be distracted enough to not think about what almost happened last night. “Besides, there’s no way there’s a direct flight from Bozeman to Phoenix, and I’m not sitting in another stupid small seat with a layover.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I told you I was smart with my money, but desperate times. I have a share in a charter company. We’re flying private.”
I expect her to protest, but no, she just shrugs and gestures at me. “Well, don’t you have to make a call or something to get that to happen?”
“Right,” I say, tossing the blanket I’d burrowed under lastnight aside and standing up, reaching for my phone where I’d plugged it in to charge.
“Oh.”
“What?” I ask, turning to her, but her eyes don’t meet mine, they’re focused just a little lower, where I’m only wearing a pair of boxer briefs. The heat had been pumping against the chilly Montana autumn air last night and I’ve always run hot when I sleep.
“Sorry,” she mumbles, turning around and fussing with her luggage.
“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” I say with a chuckle, rummaging in my bag for a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. “You were always in the clubhouse; I’m sure guys were way more naked than this.”
“I always tried to avoid it. Some guys thought it was funny to just, you know, wander around naked when there were women there, but I couldn’t escape it completely. So, no, it . . . you, at least, aren’t something I’ve seen before.”
I definitely played with dickheads like that, who thought it was hilarious to make the women we worked with as uncomfortable as possible. I quickly pull on my clothes and then say, “All done.”
She clears her throat before turning back around, but still doesn’t quite meet my eye. Is she embarrassed? It’s . . . sweet. “Are you sure you want to come with me?” she asks, and her flush deepens as the double meaning of her words hits her.
