Page 88 of See You at the Finish Line

“Hello, sorry to interrupt,” she says with a brilliant smile that hits me square in the chest.

The woman looks up from her book like she’s just realized we’re here. “Not a problem. Checking in?”

“We don’t have a reservation. Are there two rooms available?”

“Sure, let me check for you.” After some tapping on the computer and a moment of scrolling, she looks at us with an apology written on her face. “I’m so sorry, there’s only one room left.”

Paige laughs and I don’t know why. “Of course there is. Give us a minute please.”

The woman nods and goes back to her book.

“Do you want to stay here or go to another hotel?” she asks, and I honestly couldn’t care less.

“That’s up to you.”

She narrows her eyes. “You’re about to fall asleep standing up. We’ll stay here.”

She goes and checks us in. I try to hand her my credit card but she waves me off. We have a glaring match in front of the woman at the desk, her head ping-ponging back and forth between us. I sigh, resigned and too tired to fight. Paige beams at her victory. We get our key card and take the elevator to the sixth floor.

I’m so exhausted, I may call the elevator my bed for the night.

We get into the room and both of us stop dead in our tracks.

One bed we could deal with. A king bed would have been great, a queen would have sufficed, and a double would have worked, if barely. But in the centre of the tiny little room is the smallest single bed I have ever seen.

Oh shit.

Of course. The onebed is a single. This is the tiniest hotel room I’ve ever seen in my life. No wonder it was so cheap. Who is booking this room? There isn’t even a couch.

“I’ll take the floor,” I say, dropping my bag in the small closet next to the door. It’s the least I can do since Adam has done all the driving.

“Yeah, there’s no way I’m letting you sleep on the floor,” Adam responds immediately.

“I’ll call down to ask for more bedding and make myself a little nest.”

Adam runs a hand down his tired face. “Please do not sleep on the floor. If you’re sleeping on the floor, I will not sleep.”

“Well ifyou’resleeping on the floor,I’mnot going to sleep,” I retort.

I stare at the bed and then back at the wall of muscle at my side. How the hell are we going to fit on that small bed together? He’ll barely fit by himself. When he looks at me, I swear his eyes darken. The tension in the room is so palpable I have toclear my throat.

“I’m going to go brush my teeth,” I say to break the silence. He nods, and when I bend down to grab my bag and stand back up, he’s staring at the ceiling with his eyes closed.

“You okay?”

His attention snaps back to me.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

I’m going through the motions of getting dressed when my stomach drops. I didn’t pack any pajamas. The clothes I brought are not comfortable for sleeping in—all I have are sweatpants that are way too thick, tight tank tops that are too constricting, and underwear. Apparently, I was not thinking very clearly when I packed.

I peek my head out the bathroom door. “Hey, do you have a shirt or something I can wear? I forgot pajamas.”

He mumbles something that sounds a lot like, “Of course,” under his breath and tosses me a soft grey T-shirt.

“Thank you!”

His shirt is perfect. It hits the middle of my thighs—damn this man is large. It’s soft and smells like him, like soap and fresh air. I take a big inhale to calm my nervous system. I’m not sure what it means that the scent of Adam is all it takes to calm me down. For once, I’m grateful for my ability to not overthink things.

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