Page 14 of Take Me Home

What the guy at reception had not mentioned was that their room had a name. Ash stopped short at the brass sign on the door that said:THE LOVEBIRD SUITE. Beside him, Hazel let out a soft snort.

Just ignore it, he decided. It was just a room. Just a place to sleep before getting back on the road tomorrow. They didn’t even really need to address the issue of the lone, queen-size bed because of course he would insist she take it.

But when he pushed open the door, the casual line he’d rehearsed on the short walk upstairs dissolved under the assault of mustard-yellow bird wallpaper on every wall, a peacock-feather-patterned comforter, brass flamingo bedside lamps, and a gallery of pink-and-teal picture frames holding crudely drawn bird sketches. He jumped back when he realized even the carpet was a sea of alternating right-side-up and upside-down bird silhouettes.

Hazel pushed past him and turned in a slow circle in the center of the room. “This is…”

“Disorienting,” he said. “Oppressive. A hell custom-designed by Lisa Frank.”

“Amazing.” She dropped her bags just past the entryway, where Ash was still standing, then threw open the closet, gasped, and yanked a robe off a hanger. Immediately, she pulled it onover her gray sweaterdress. It was a muted spa green on the outside, but the lining had colorful parrots printed all over it. She cinched the belt and pulled a second matching robe out for him.

“Uh, no.”

“Put it on, Asher.”

“Ash. And you look ridiculous.” Ridiculously cute with her bright eyes and open smile, but whatever. She was swimming in the material, and he was pretty sure she’d taken the man’s robe and was offering him the slimmer-cut woman’s version.

“Well, I like it.” She tightened the belt for emphasis and trust-fell onto the bed.

Aaand he’d missed his chance to get ahead of the bed conversation. Her shoulders tensed as she sat up and studied her hands against the peacock comforter. “So, how should we…?”

Ash let the door close behind him. The room became way too quiet. “Uh, you paid for the room, which—I’ll add it to your gas money. But I can just sleep on the…” He gestured aimlessly at the floor, where the endlessly flip-flopping birds made him feel like he was swaying. He crossed to the closet, hoping for an extra blanket, but found only three extremely flat pillows. He grabbed them anyway, then turned and collided with her.

“You don’t have to pay me back,” Hazel said.

Shaking his head, he dropped the pillows into the narrow space between the bed and the wall. He suspected the manager had jacked up the price when desperate people began turning up. “I’m paying my half. It’s not your fault there was a warm air wedge.”

“If you’re paying for half, you should get half the bed.” Uncertainty flitted across her face, but she committed. “I mean, you should. We can be adults about it, right?”

Ash expelled a tight laugh. “Yeah, no problem. We are adults.”

But he’d already spent several hours in her passenger seat trying to look at anything other than her thighs in her smooth leggings, her soft curves in her dress, the low neck of which kept slipping down and exposing her right shoulder. Multiple times, when she’d gone quiet, he’d fallen into a daydream-like state and vividly saw himself leaning over tokissthat little curve of exposed shoulder.

At some point, she was going to sleep in something else entirely. Who knew what Hazel Elliot wore to bed? He didn’t want to know.

Actually, now, he desperately wanted to know.

Ash yanked the comforter off the bed like a matador with a cape. “I’ll take the top half.”

“What?”

“Yeah.” He tossed it into the corner. “You take the mattress. That middle blanket looks warm enough. And I’ll take the comforter.” A completely sane plan.

“That’s not what I—”

He folded the blanket in half like a sleeping bag and lay down on top of it, crossing his arms behind his head.

“Are you sure?”

“Yep.” And because he was nothing if not committed now, he closed his eyes.

A moment later, the bed creaked as she shifted above him. “Hey, Asher,” Hazel whispered.

He cracked one eye open to find her face hanging over the side of the bed inches from his own. “Ash.”

“It’s only six o’clock.”

Well, hell.

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