Page 36 of One-Star Romance

“That’s not fair.” Then he’d get to be the decent one, suffering twice as much as her. The kiss was still making her brain slow, allowing her to stumble into dangerous territory. “We can share the bed tonight.” He arched an eyebrow, and she continued, quickly, “No funny business! Just so we can both get a decent night of sleep.”

“You sure?” She was having trouble telling whether his expression was disbelieving or smug, like he was goading her to admit how much she’d enjoyed what had just happened. God, why had she made this suggestion? But she couldn’t back out now, couldn’t just say, You know, on second thought, this might be dangerous, because that kiss was far more thrilling than I ever imagined it would be. Not that I spent a lot of time imagining kissing you! It just flitted across my mind every once in a while, mostly before I got to know you better. But anyways, it was very good, and while I intellectually don’t want to do it again, physically a night in bed with you is going to be uncomfortable as hell.

They stood in an unspoken standoff.

“I think I’ll be able to control myself if you can,” she said, her tone entirely dry.

“I have excellent self-control,” he said, and an unwanted tingle ran up her spine.

“Good. Because I don’t know about you, but I’d prefer for neither of us to leave this weekend in a neck brace.”

He gave her a serious nod. “For the sake of our necks.”

15

That night, Rob and Natalie lay next to each other in the bed, light off, their bodies stiff, Rob extremely aware of the six inches between them. Natalie turned over, her arm brushing against his.

“Sorry!” she said.

“No, I’m sorry.” He scooted closer to the edge of the bed.

They’d performed their nighttime routines in silence. At one point, he’d caught sight of her in the bathroom as he passed by in the hallway. She was flossing her teeth aggressively and scowling at her reflection in the mirror, as if to say that while she might not have a book deal, she would at least have strong and healthy gums.

The house creaked around them, the wind outside rustling through the branches. Rob normally only slept in his boxers. Maybe a thin T-shirt on top in the dead of winter. But tonight, he’d felt it prudent to keep as many layers between him and Natalie as possible, wearing a long-sleeved shirt and shorts on top of his boxers. He was far too warm underneath the blankets, but removing any clothes now could only lead to chaos.

She lay still beside him as his own body jittered with adrenaline. Had she managed to fall asleep, despite everything? Perhaps she had been telling the truth in the lake—it had been a momentary urge for her, meaning nothing. She did have an impulsive streak. He didn’t want to disturb her, so, quietly, he tried to wriggle out from underneath the covers, turning first one way and then the other, and when he turned briefly toward the side of the bed where she’d been curled into a ball, she was turning his way too.

Despite the darkness, he could just make out the features of her face, scrubbed free of any makeup. Her lake-soaked hair had dried into wild curls in the sun and the wind. His heart began to thud.

“Having trouble falling asleep?” she whispered, mint toothpaste on her breath.

“It appears so.”

“Me too.” She sighed, a low, sad sound, and he felt an almost irresistible urge to comfort her, just like earlier in the day.

“Are you still feeling bad about the book?”

“Strangely enough, it might take me longer than half a day to get over the dashing of my dreams.” He was silent, and after a moment, she began, “Do you think—” She cut herself off.

“What?”

“Could you hold me, for just a minute?”

Rob hesitated. The feeling of her body tangled up with his in the water came flooding back to him. It had been hard enough to pull himself away from her the first time.

She turned her face up to the ceiling. “Never mind. Sorry, I just thought it might help—”

“No, that’s…Sure.” Rob moved closer to her, and she turned over, facing away. Leaving a few inches between their bodies, he tentatively wrapped an arm around her. For a moment, she did not seem to breathe, and Rob realized that he was holding his own breath too, fighting an urge to pull her fully against him. She reached her hand up and clasped his forearm, and they stayed like that for a minute, a minute of agony that bordered on sublime.

Then she turned around to face him again.

This did not make any sense. Back across the country, he had a smart, attractive woman with whom he’d gone on five dates. Zuri was kind and interesting, a high achiever who knew how to handle any social situation with aplomb. He could get to her place with a simple six-minute walk instead of a six-hour flight. They got on swimmingly, never argued. She even had the same dietary restrictions as him—they were both pescatarians—which, looking into the future, would make life together much easier. The last time they were supposed to see each other, he’d come down with a terrible cold. She’d canceled their date, which was very sensible—she was on an important deadline and could not afford to get sick herself. But she’d made him soup, excellent soup, and homemade bread (!), and dropped it off outside his door. (In contrast, Rob was willing to bet that Natalie was the kind of person who’d insist on seeing a sick partner anyway, insist on kissing him, only to get horribly sick herself, thus requiring that partner to take care of her.) After eating Zuri’s bread, he’d almost called her up right then and there to ask her to be his girlfriend, but he’d held off—perhaps it had felt strange to do something so important over the phone. But she felt like his girlfriend, right? He’d already told his parents that she was.

So why in the world was he six inches away from frustrating, messy, stubborn Natalie, fixating on her bottom lip, aching to lean forward and kiss her again?

The voice boomed in his head: What’s the argument for this? Defend it. His father across the dinner table, barking at him whenever Rob said something that didn’t quite make sense. Go on, back up your position. And to this indefensible position in which Rob currently found himself, Rob had nothing to say besides Well, because I want to. Very, very much.

On the other hand, he could make a million arguments for why he should immediately get out of bed and return to the torture couch. Beyond the Zuri of it all and the fact that Natalie was chaos incarnate, she had been awful to his best friend. And she’d done nothing to make up for it, as far as Rob could tell. Even here on this weekend, which Angus had gifted them all, Natalie seemed simply to tolerate him, showing no particular interest in his life. After how she’d treated him in her novel, she should—Rob didn’t know—be bringing Angus breakfast in bed! Picking him flowers from the bushes outside! How could Rob date someone who would be cruel to somebody like Angus simply for her own advancement? (He already had one person in his life who put his own success over everyone else’s feelings, and that was plenty.) And how hurt would Angus be if he realized what Natalie’s book contained, how wounded if he learned that Rob had known and decided to be with Natalie anyway? Angus was the kind of guy who would defend the people he loved until his dying breath, and he deserved the same.

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