Page 52 of The Enemy Face Off

I open the door, step out into the room, and everything is not nice and normal.

The couch remains, well…a couch. Milo hasn't set it up as a sleeping space.

And where is the man of the hour himself?

Why, he's made himself quite comfortablein. the. bed.

"What do you think you're doing?" I demand, taking a few steps closer to him, stunned by what I'm witnessing. Any concern I had about what I have on has vanished.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Milo, who is not only in the bed, but he's also lyingunder the sheets, hooks his hands behind his head, grinning from ear to ear. He casts a glance up and down my body. "I like your pajamas."

He sounds sincere. Where's the teasing? The mocking?

"Uh, thanks."

Still grinning, he tips his chin toward the sofa. "I'm sure you'll be fine on the couch. Yell out if you need a hand setting it up."

What?

What???

He can't be serious.

Step aside Cool Beth, and let Raging Beth take things from here.

I stomp over to the bed, get right up in his face, and grit out, "Leave this bed right now."

He watches me with that grin still on his face, his normally intense eyes brimming with playful mischief. It'd be nice seeing him like this if it didn't come at my expense.

"You said chivalry is dead, so here we are, living in a post-chivalrous world. Enjoy the sofa."

He moves to switch the bedside lamp off, so I lunge forward and catch hold of his wrist. "Are you for real?"

"I am." He pauses, our faces separated by barely a few inches. I can smell the motel body wash wafting off him.

Or is it coming off me?

We're so close I can't tell whose smell I'm smelling.

He lifts a brow. "Or…"

I let go of his wrist. "Or, what?"

"Well, I suppose I could share my bed with you. But no funny business. I don't want you taking advantage of me just because I'm a pro athlete with a soft spot for snarky bookworms."

Ooh, no fair. He's playing dirty. Any shot I had at making a rational comeback flies out the door the second I hear those words.

He…he has a soft spot for me?

Me?

No way.

I shake my head.

As nice as that sentiment may be, I'm no pushover. And if he wants snark, then here's a big ol' helping of the good stuff coming right up.

"Fine." I circle the bed and climb in on the other side. "But make a move and touch me, and you won't be able to have any children, mister."

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