Page 86 of Finding Fate

With a nod, I turn and scan the room, silently hoping a spare bed will magically appear out of nowhere. "Um, I... I don't know."

"I won't bite, unless you ask me to," he whispers into my ear, having silently crept up behind me.

With a yelp, I jump at least a foot in the air. Placing his hands on my shoulders, he turns me to face him. "I'll sleep on the floor, it's fine. If you're going to stroke out, I'd rather it be from me being in the bed with you instead of the fear of it."

"I'm not scared of you."

"Sure as hell feels that way. You're about to cause an aneurysm trying to figure out where I can sleep without being too close."

"It's just...." I fall to the unmade bed with a huff and stare at the ceiling. "I'm awkward with this stuff anyway, and you're... well, you, so I'm even more awkward."

His loud chuckling makes me smile. "What the hell does that even mean?"

"It means...." Ugh. I can't have this conversation to his face. Sitting up, I eye him, then the queen-size bed. I'm a fool to think inviting him into this bed is as innocent as not wanting to make him sleep on the floor. I want him in this bed, want him beside me. It's all I wanted all those nights in Africa, to have him beside me without any looming threats or walls between us. Now I have my chance, so what in the hell am I doing holding back?

"Get in the bed," I say, then point to the other side of the mattress.

"Whoa, what just happened?" Palms up, he takes a cautious step back. "I'm not making fun of you."

"Just get in," I say again and point with more force. "I'll get the light." Before flipping the switch, I turn to make sure he's obeying. Which he is, kind of. His jeans are halfway down his thighs, shirt already discarded to the floor. "Seriously?"

"What?" He sighs and scrubs his face with the hand not holding his jeans up. "I'm not sleeping in clothes. I'll suffocate and die."

"You did fine in—" The frustrated glare he shoots back stops me from finishing. "Right, sorry. Continue."

"With you staring, I kind of feel like a stripper. Put on some music and I'll make it a real show, Pops."

Burying my face in my hands, I shake my head. His laugh rumbles through the room, fueling the heat in my cheeks.

After the sounds of him rustling around the sheets stops, I flip the light off and feel my way around the dark room.

My shin slams into the side of the bed. "Ouch!" I cry out and fall to the mattress. The bed shakes from him laughing so hard, though no sound escapes. "Don't be a dick."

"It's pretty damn funny."

"Is not," I pout and stare into the dark.

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