Page 25 of Romancing the Grump
“Fine,” I concede. “I heard my name.”
“Go on,” she prompts.
“And…something about you not having an idea, wondering if he…something. I swear, that’s all I heard.” I’d love to know how she would have finished that sentence had Inotfallen through her door. But I’m not about to ask that question now. I’m in enough trouble as it is.
Summer lifts a finger and pokes it into my chest. “You’re lucky you didn’t hear worse. Orseeworse.”
She glances down at her tank top, and I’m reminded again just how much of her skin is exposed. This is the only context in which seeing more of Summer really would be worse because I would be seeing morewithouther consent.
“I really am sorry, Summer.”
Her pointer finger is still pressed against me, and she slides it slightly up, flattening her palm against my chest and giving me a playful nudge toward the door.
“You’re forgiven,” she says. “But you should go now so I can finish changing.”
I take a step back, stumbling over one of the pillows. “Can I pick these up for you?”
She lets out a tiny, exasperated sigh. “I’ll get them. Just…” She makes a shooing motion with her hand.
“Got it. Going. Sorry again.”
I make fast work of closing both doors between our rooms and locking the one on my side. I lean against it, my head resting against the cool metal, and groan.
I am thebiggestidiot.
I should have closed and locked the door the second I realized it was open. Bare minimum, I should have apologized and left a lot faster than I did. She was clearly in the process of changing her clothes, and I just stood there, staring.
The image of her, eyes wide and wild, skin flushed, flashes through my mind, and I close my eyes. I can’t be happy this happened, but I also can’t regret having caught a glimpse of her looking so…alive.She didn’t cower in the corner—she threw whatever she could get her hands on. Her impulse wasn’t to flee, it was to fight.
I get the sense that’s just how Summer is.I love that about her.
Instead of going straight to the lobby, I wait outside Summer’s room, leaning against the wall opposite her door. I’d like to apologize again, but mostly I just want to make sure the next time I see her after having fallen into her hotel roomisn’tin front of my teammates. I don’t think she’ll say anything to embarrass me—though I would deserve it if she did—but I’ve already done enough to give my friends the impression that something is up between Summer and me. If I can avoid doing so, I’d rather not fuel the fire.
I wait long enough that I start to wonder if I missed her, or if maybeshedecided to stay in to avoid seeing me, but then her door swings open.
Summer looksgood.Jeans. A black sweater with a deep V-neck that shows the smooth skin beneath her collarbones, her coat looped over one arm. I don’t know anything about women’s fashion. But I like Summer’s style. She always looks great at work, dressier than most people at the Summit, and she looks good like this, too. But then, I’m beginning to think she’d look good in anything.
She startles when she sees me, a hand lifting to her chest. “Geez. Have you made it your mission to scare me tonight?”
“Sorry.” I clear my throat. “That’s why I’m waiting for you. I wanted to apologize again.”
She shoots me a wry grin. “The first three times weren’t enough?”
“Not even close.” I fall into step beside her, and we head down the hall toward the elevator. “I owe you at least half a dozen more.”
“Hmm. Should I work this to my advantage? I’m not above bribery, Nathan. Gifts, treats, flowers…” She taps her chin like she’s considering. “Lilies are my favorite. And peanut M&Ms. Ohhh, and those apple cider donuts at the Harvest Hollow Farmer’s Market.”
I let out a chuckle, committing the list to memory despite my resistance to the idea of a relationship. “Whatever it takes. I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping. I really am sorry.”
She shakes her head dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. Honestly, I’m glad it was you who fell through my door and not a random stranger.”
The thought of someone else—someone dangerous—stumbling into Summer’s hotel room makes my blood run cold, and I’m tempted to storm up to the front desk and let them know exactly how risky it is to leave those doors unlocked.
“It’s really not safe,” I grumble. “I could have been anyone.”
“But you aren’t just anyone.” We stop outside the elevators, and she pushes the down button. “You’re you, and despite my initial reaction when you collapsed onto my floor”—she smiles coyly—“I’m not actually scared of you.”
She holds my gaze, fire flashing in her eyes, and a slow heat spreads through my chest, pushing out to my fingertips.
