Page 6 of Crash with Me
The clerk looks up bored from her magazine. “Can I help you?”
“I’d like to book a room, please.”
“We’re all booked.” She turns her attention back to an article about two co-stars who are supposedly having an affair.
“Oh no,” Heidi whispers.
My heart sinks. “Are you positive there isn’t anything? A broom closet? A couch in the lounge?”
“We’re all booked.” She flips the page. “There are no more rooms in the inn and all that jazz.”
Well, shit. “I guess I can fly home and come back in the morning.”
“That would take forever and you’d hardly get any rest,” Heidi says. “You’ll just have to stay in my room.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” She loops her arm through mine. “Besides, it’ll really help sell the fact that we’re here on a date.”
“True.” My shoulders once again relax. I didn’t realize how tense I’d been these past few days. “You’re saving my life, once again here.”
“I’m happy to do it.” She chews on her bottom lip. “There’s just one thing.”
“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s no problem.”
“I hope not, but, well…” She shrugs. “There’s only one bed in my room.”
THREE
HEIDI
Masking a yawn, I gratefully accept the cup of coffee Seth hands to me. Our fingers brush, setting a flutter through me.
“Thank you.” I work my jaw, and bring the liquid gold to my lips. “I’m exhausted.”
“That’s my fault.” He gives a sheepish look. “I kept you up half the night.”
That he did. After we both crawled into our respective sides of the bed, after a short argument where he said he’d be fine sleeping on the floor, we found that neither of us could sleep.
I could lie and say it was the excitement of the intrigue keeping me awake. In actuality, my body was so keenly aware of his presence—his size, his strength, his delicious smell—I was too tightly coiled to keep my eyes closed. Every time I closed them, I’d imagine how he’d looked when I caught a glimpse of him bare-chested while he changed out of his suit and into a white shirt and gym shorts.
When I realized Seth couldn’t sleep either…
I wish I could say we stayed up half the night worshipping one another’s bodies. But, instead, we went round after round of rapid fire questions and answers…
“Where did you go to high school?” I ask, curled up on my side, cradling my head on my hands.
“My dad flew us down to Anchorage every morning.” He settles into his own pillow, his arm tucked under his head. “Until I got my pilot’s license.”
“You have a pilot’s license?”
“Of course. When you grow up in the bush, it’s more useful than having a driver’s license.”
“Did you have a driver’s license?”
The look he gives could melt stone. It easily pulverizes my heart.
“What did you like to do in high school?” he asks.
