Page 37 of More Than a Blind Date

“Wait!”

“What? I need to text him back.”

“Call me tomorrow and let me know how tonight goes. You know, with the only-one-bed thing.”

“I’ll call you. Bye.” I end the call and tap out a text to Dallas.

Me:In my PJs.

I follow the message with a selfie so that Dallas doesn’t worry that my sleeping attire will make him uncomfortable.

Minutes later, he texts again.

Dallas:Coming in now.

He walks in and sets the key on the dresser next to his hat. “Let me get changed, then you can grill me, okay?”

“That works. And, um, I know you didn’t pack for this situation. But I want you to know that I’m not going to freak out or be offended if you walk out of that bathroom shirtless.”

Dallas pauses his hunt for sleeping attire and stares at me. After a few heartbeats, he says, “Okay.”

I pull the covers back and climb into bed on the side farthest from the air conditioner. I’m like an ice cube when I sleep, and being closer to the blower will only make it worse.

He carries a handful of clothes into the bathroom and walks back out a few minutes later wearing athletic shorts and a white T-shirt. “I asked room service to send up some extra pillows. They should be here any moment.”

“Why do we need extra pillows? If you need more than two, you can use one of mine. One is probably sufficient for me.”

“Pillows are for the middle of the bed. A dividing line.” He paces, avoiding getting into bed until he can erect his pillow wall.

We don’t have to wait long.

Dallas thanks the guy and takes the pillows. Then he arranges them in a line down the middle of the bed. “This way, I won’t accidentally cuddle you or anything.”

I would not complain about an accidental cuddle.

He slides under the covers and turns out the light on his side of the bed.

So I do the same. “What did Sage want?”

“I think tonight’s drink was his way of giving me his stamp of approval. And he talked about your mom and Mrs. Finch. Thanks to Cara, he’s noticed things that he didn’t pick up on before.”

“Mom’s always treated him differently. Guys chart their own path, but girls are supposed to listen to their mothers. Until tonight, I’m not sure I realized that Cara dealt with the same thing from her mom. Mrs. Finch was nitpicking a lot of whatCara talked about, but then praised Richard for every tiny thing. I’m not sure how I didn’t see it before.”

“You were probably watching your own back.”

“You’re right. But now you’re here.” I scoot close to the pillow wall. “I hope tonight wasn’t too brutal.”

“Nah. You show up with a bad boy, and of course your parents are going to react.”

“Dallas, you aren’t a bad boy. You’re polite, protective. And you aren’t even covered in tattoos.”

He chuckles. “I have a tattoo.”

“Really? I haven’t seen it.”

“And I plan to keep it that way.”

CHAPTER 16

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