Page 33 of The Road Trip Romance

I frown as I feel silky strands of hair in my hand. I look down to find Sophia sleeping on me.

Shit, I fell asleep in Sophia’s bed. Her head is resting against my abdomen, one leg curled over mine. My hand is tangled in her hair. One of her hands is spread across my thigh. She’s not yet awake, so I take a moment to look at her, really look at her.

She has some light freckles on her nose and cheeks. Her light brown hair has strands of blonde and red in it. I can’t tell if it’s natural or not, but knowing Sophia, I bet it is. Her fingernails have chipped pink polish on them. Her lips are slightly parted, and the sound of her steady breathing fills the quiet room. Her eyelashes flutter slightly against her cheeks. I smile down at her. She’s beautiful.

And then I realize her breast is smashed against my hip and…fuck…my morning wood is, well…stiff. I can’t let her see that. It’s so not appropriate. We arejustfriends.

A small little part of my brain screams, “But you sort of want to be more than friends.” And I tell it to shut the fuck up.

I glance around the room. It’s still early. I can see just a peek of the sky through the slit opening of the curtains and it’s turning that light shade of dark blue that happens a few minutes before sunrise. I glance down again and try to figure out how to extricate myself without waking Sophia. I shouldn’t have shut my eyes when I got tired. I shouldn’t have come over here to begin with.What the hell am I doing?

As gently as I can, I begin to pry myself from her, tucking a pillow under her head and leg so she’s comfortable. She stirs briefly but doesn’t wake. I freeze for a moment, hoping she’ll keep her eyes closed. When she does, I breathe a sigh of relief and begin to walk quietly back to my room.

I decide I’ll work out and shower before we grab breakfast and roll out. I expect Sophia will be up in a little while. What I don’t expect are Sophia’s shoes lying on the ground at the foot of the bed. And in the very dim light of the room, I fail to see them, mostly because my gaze is still fixed on Sophia instead of where I’m going. And the result of this is me going sailing through the air and hitting the dresser with a giant thud. My head hits the corner of the dresser and I groan as I try to stand back up.

“Oh my God! Tate! Are you OK?” Sophia’s voice says loudly from the bed. I hear her climb out of it and scurry toward me, throwing back a curtain on her way that illuminates the room including her shoes that just nearly killed me.

I rub my head and feel a small bump next to my eye. Shit.

I turn to look in the mirror over the dresser, but Sophia is suddenly grabbing my face and yanking it down toward her. She examines it closely and I wince as she gently runs a finger over the bump.

“Sorry,” she whispers. “Sit down,” she commands, and for reasons I can’t explain, hermomvoice turns me the fuck on and I comply mostly to keep my morning wood from becoming more noticeable.

Sophia’s big eyes blink in front of mine and she examines me again. “I’m going to get some ice. You have a nice bump there. How many fingers am I holding up?” she asks as she raises three fingers.

“Ten,” I say dryly.

“Great. You are for sure great,” she replies with a roll of her eyes before heading to the door.

I grab her arm as she steps away. “You cannot go out there like that,” I state as I survey her curves through the thin fabric of the shirt and shorts she wore to bed. There’s no way I’m letting just anyone see that. I’m not sure why I feel so intensely protective of her, but I do.

She looks down and blushes. “Uh, right…” she squeaks, and I can tell she’s upset by the way she looks away from me but I’m not sure why. Does she not want me to protect her?

Before I can say another word, she’s grabbed a hoodie and the ice bucket and headed out of the room, leaving the latch in between the door and wall to prop it open. A minute later she’s back. I watch as she wraps some ice in a hand towel and places it on my bump.

“Hold it on there for at least fifteen minutes,” she says. “Are you woozy? Do you feel OK?”

I sigh as I place my hand over hers and she slowly pulls her hand out, leaving mine holding the ice. I search her eyes, but I can’t read what she’s thinking. I frown.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

I’m about to ask her the same when there’s a knock at the door and then it bursts open.

“Everything OK in…whoa! What happened?” Penn asks as he steps up to the bed.

Great. Now I just feel like a zoo exhibit.

I pull down the ice, and he winces. “Damn, bro! Sophia, did you clock him for being an idiot?”

Sophia rolls her eyes. “Penn, you can’t just waltz into my room unannounced.”

Penn grins and Sophia shakes her head.

“I wanted to see if Mr. Took-a-beating here wanted to work out but I’m thinking he needs some medical assistance,” Penn states as he looks down at me.

“I’m fine. I just tripped and hit my head. Sophia was kind enough to go get me ice,” I explain, hoping Penn doesn’t ask any more questions that would lead to me having to explain how I slept in Sophia’s room.

“Damn. That’s an unworthy story. You need something better, like Sophia here kicked your ass for being too loud or you tried to sing a song and she lost her shit and knocked you out. Bam!” Penn says excitedly with a laugh.

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