Page 38 of Romancing the Grump
I lift my eyebrows, standing up right beside him. “Did what?”
“You made it seem like you dated him.”
“Becauseyousounded jealous,” I say, propping my hands on my hips. “Which makes zero sense, since we aren’t dating and you said you don’t do relationships.”
“I was not jealous,” Nathan grumbles, but the deepening color in his cheeks says something different.
“Look me right in the eye and say it again,” I challenge.
Nathan looks down at me—the man really is so tall—fire blazing in his deep blue eyes. We’re standing close, only inches separating us, and the air is sharp with attraction and want.
He licks his lips, leaning forward the slightest bit, and for the second time tonight, I think about kissing him.
I’ve never dated anyone quite so tall or quite so muscular. Never even met a professional athlete until taking this job. But I have a very active imagination, and it isn’t hard to conjure up exactly how it might feel to wrap my arms around his waist and lean into his solid body, to revel in the warmth of him, the weight of him as he hugs me back.
But jealousy is a fickle emotion. It isn’t reliable or logical or sensible.
I have to trust what Nathan tells me with his words before I trust anything else. And those words made it perfectly clear he isn’t interested in pursuing any kind ofanythingwith me.
Letting myself fantasize about things that are never going to happen is a punishment I don’t deserve. Which means Ishould be the one to end whatever this moment is. To send him back to his own hotel room and put myself to bed.
I clear my throat and take a giant step backward. “You know what? Forget I asked. You weren’t jealous. I’ll totally take your word for it.” I press my hands into my lower back and take a deep, clarifying breath. “I think I’m ready to call it a night.”
He nods. “Yeah. Of course. I’m feeling pretty tired.”
“Same. So tired,” I repeat, ushering him toward the door.
Everything about the last thirty seconds has been strained and awkward and weird, but I don’t even care. I just need him gone. So I can breathe. So I can think. So I can figure out how I’m ever going to keep myself from falling for him.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” I say, hand on the doorknob.
Nathan is in the hallway now, his own room key already in his hand. It’s not like he has to go far. He’s literally going to be one wall away all night long. I can’t even think about the distraction that’s going to be. The thought of Nathan lounging on his bed. Nathan changing into pajamas. Nathan taking a shower, then walking around his room in a towel.
That very active imagination I mentioned is going to be torturing me all night long, but it has to at least be better than having himinmy room.
“Yeah. Tomorrow,” he finally says. He holds my gaze for an extra-long moment. “Thanks again for tonight. For calling Franklin. I’m sorry for making things weird.”
It was more like he lit my entire body on fire just by looking at me, but sure! Let’s go with weird.
“It’s fine,” I say. “I’m happy to help. And I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything back from Franklin.”
We say goodnight, and I collapse onto my bed like a starfish, staring up at the hotel ceiling, and take several slow, deliberate breaths.
I can do this. I can get over whatever this is. I can stop thinking about the intensity behind Nathan’s blue eyes whenever he looks at me. I can stop myself from planning the next time I’ll see him. From thinking about the next time I’ll have a reason to text him or talk to him. I cannotobsess about how close he is on the other side of my hotel room wall.
I pull a pillow onto my face and groan. But eventhatmakes me think of Nathan, because he’s freaking right next door, and now I’m stressed about whether he heard me.
I toss the pillow at the headboard and sigh.
Operation Kill-My-Crush is off to a woefully dismal start.
CHAPTER 9
SUMMER
The hotelin Chicago has an enormous breakfast buffet, but I’m not sure they were prepared to feed twenty professional hockey players.
All I’m saying is I’m glad I was in line first, and I feel sorry for any guests who were hoping for eggs and bacon but arrived after all the Appies.
