“Is this a joke?”
“Don’t worry, it’s only half deflated. There’s still some wiggle room.”
“Cassie, Jesus. Whydidn’t you tell me?”
“Trust me, the beds at the hospital are worse.” I have a love-hate relationship with night shifts. Sure, when the floor is quiet, you get to go lie down for a few hours, but the mattresses available to us are rock-hard and the blankets tissue-paper thin. I’ve learned to sleep on any and all surfaces, so long as I’m tired enough.
“You’re not staying on an air mattress,” he declares.
“Why not?”
“Because I have a perfectly available bed for you at my place.”
“Does it happen to be the bed you also sleep in?”
His lips curve into a devilish smirk. “Would it be so bad if it was?”
I start smiling but shake my head. “We can’t do this in front of Zoe. She’ll be… confused.” Especially after what she asked me at the cottage, the last thing I want is to add even more ambiguity to this whole situation.
Something sobers in his face, and I’m not sure if it’s the mention of his daughter potentially getting tangled in this, or the reminder that whatever’s happening between us is temporary.
“Right.” He nods, then nods again. “We’ll just pretend you’re sleeping in the guest bedroom then.”
“So thereisanother empty bedroom?”
“Yes, but you’re not getting that one.” His hands drift down my body, landing on my waist, long fingers curving around my back.
“Where’s the honorable man who offered me a bed so I wouldn’t have to sleep on the floor?”
He captures my mouth with his, a blink of a kiss, there one second and gone the next. “Who said I offered for honorable reasons?”
I wait fifteen minutes from the time Zoe’s breathing turns deep and slow to finally join Eli in his room. I shouldn’t be nervous, and yet I kind of feel like I’m going on a first date. I hesitated on what pajamas to wear, but since I never expected for someone else to see me at night when I packed, I didn’t bring the best selection. I settled on a tank top and a pair of flannel shorts.
“Finally,” Eli says when I close the door behind me. He crosses the space between us in three steps and pulls me closer to him. His hair is damp from his shower, and I once again wonder how it’s possible for him to make Irish Spring soap smell this good. It becomes something else against his skin.
“Miss me?”
“You have no idea.”
And then he’s kissing me, and I forget to breathe. With his fingers tangled in my hair, we take slow steps backward until the backs of my knees hit the side of the bed. We both fall in a tangled heap on his soft comforter, his hardness pushing against my thigh. Still, there’s no sense of urgency in his kisses. They’re slow and deep, and the way his tongue tangles with mine in this unhurried way makes me boil from inside. I don’t recognize my body with this man. Never have I felt this kind of want before. It’s intoxicating.
“Do you know how grateful I am for goodwill right now?”
“I knew your chivalry was an excuse.”
“Two birds, one stone.” He cups my ass through my shorts, his pinkies toying against my skin at the hem. I want them off. I wanteverythingoff.
Bringing my lips back to his, I grab the bottom of his shirt to lift it just as his phone rings.
“Ignore it,” he says, then takes his shirt off and lies back down, bringing me with him.
And then it rings again.
“Fuck,” he says as he shifts away so he can stand in one swift move and answer, “What?”
I sit up, fighting a grin. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this rude before. He listens to what sounds like a male voice for a few moments, then leans his head back and groans. “Fine. I’ll be right there.” He hangs up.
“What’s going on?
