Page 50 of Snared

Why the hell was I awake and staring at the underside of Bash’s bunk? We’d left San Francisco at least a few hours ago after another kick-ass show and still had a few hours until we got to LA. I’d passed out as soon as my head hit my pillow, but now I was wide awake. And I was a “once I’m up, I’m up” kind of person, so I shoved off my covers, grabbed my phone, and slipped down the hallway, hoping no one else was stirring.

And why should they be? It was too damn early.

I pulled the pocket door shut behind me. The lights were dim, and I made a beeline for the coffee machine.

I grabbed my favorite mug and popped a hazelnut coffee pod into the machine.

“Couldn’t sleep?” a voice called out softly.

I gasped and spun around to see Josh in one of the swivel chairs, laptop on his thighs. His bare feet were propped up on an ottoman and he had those stupid glasses on.

It was way too early for barefoot, bespectacled Josh.

Especially before coffee.

Just. No.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, taking off his glasses.

“Um. I didn’t think anyone was awake.” I stepped back and banged my hip on the counter.

“You okay?” he asked when I winced.

“Yep. Good.” I tried to keep my voice low.

He stood up, walking toward me. Or was it more of a prowl? Was I imagining that?

Again, it was way too early for my brain to deal with all of… him.

“Your coffee’s done,” he said, brushing his arm against mine as he opened the fridge.

Sparks zapped my body and my heart sped up. One touch and I was a mess. It was annoying as fuck.

“Light cream, right?” he asked, holding out the small carton.

“Um, yeah. Thanks.” I grabbed it from him and my fingers grazed his. Why was he being nice to me? It made me antsy.

Total lie. I was always on edge around him, created by an unnerving combination of annoyance and interest that made my insides twitch.

I doctored my coffee with cream and a little sugar and took a sip.

And promptly burned my mouth.

“Fuck,” I muttered.

“You okay?”

“Yep. Guess I’m impatient for caffeine.”

He chuckled.

Unwelcome sparks again.

I tried to keep my voice neutral. “So, ah, what are you watching? Some action movie? No, I’m thinking not that. Maybe an artsy movie where they talk the entire time? Something intellectual or where the main characters have massive egos?”

“Wow. That’s a lot of judgment for five in the morning,” he said.

He wasn’t wrong. But I didn’t apologize.

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