Page 41 of Romancing the Grump
His lips lift in a tiny smirk. “Waking up to you didnotmake me uncomfortable.”
Heat blossoms in my chest, and I press my lips together, fighting a smile. “Do they really just roll you onto the floor?”
Nathan shrugs. “If they have to. Did I really spoon you?”
“You…did,” I say. “But it’s fine. It was actually kind of nice. I haven’t been spooned in a while.”
I wince the second the words are out of my mouth. I mean,it’s true.I haven’t been. But that’s not exactly relevanttothisconversation, and it’s the last thing I want to admit in front of Nathan. “I don’t know why I just said that,” I say, more to myself than to him.
“I get it,” he says, and I look up to see him staring right at me. “I haven’t either.”
I clear my throat and glance at my watch, keenly aware that if he stares at me like that much longer, I’ll start thinking about a lot more than just spooning. “You’re going to be late for your meeting,” I say.
He lets out a humorless laugh as he stretches. “Trust me. Coach is used to it.”
I drink in the sight of him, doing my best not to blatantly stare. But honestly, I can’t help it. Nathan clearly has an athlete’s body. He’s well-muscled without being overly bulky, and his chest is dusted with light brown hair that runs down the center of his abdomen until it disappears into the waistband of his pajama bottoms. He’s wearing a chain around his neck with a ring of some sort looped through, and his shoulders are covered in freckles, something I didn’t know I found sexy until right this minute.
“Have you always been a deep sleeper?”
“Since I was a kid,” he answers. “At home, I’ve got an alarm clock that makes my entire bed shake. It works, but it doesn’t travel well.”
I motion toward the door connecting our rooms. “If you need help tomorrow morning, I’m happy to sneak in and be your alarm clock. I’m clearly gentler than your teammates.”
Nathan eyes the door. “I think I’ve gotten us into enough trouble using that thing.”
“Well, now I’ve gotten you back,” I say. “You forced your way into my hotel room, now I’ve forced my way into yours. Shall we call it even?”
“Somehow, I think I got the better end of this deal,” he says. “But sure.”
I leave him to get dressed, heart fluttering in my chest like I’m a teenager who was just asked to prom by her crush.
Though crush is beginning to feel like too inconsequential a word.
Crushes are silly. Fleeting.
I think I’m beginning to like Nathan for real.
Grant emailed a detailed to-do list first thing this morning, so I have plenty to keep me busy. I set myself up at the desk in my room, laptop open and water bottle full, but focusing on work requires Herculean effort. Mostly because I can’t stop thinking about Nathan. Is he right next door? Taking a nap? Hitting the gym?
I have no idea what the players are doing to occupy their time, and since I have very specific thingsI’msupposed to be doing, I can’t think of a reason to ask them.
I press on, slogging my way through Grant’s list, then taking a break to eat lunch and binge-watch two episodes of the second season ofBridgerton.
I eke out another hour of work after lunch, finally quitting at three o’clock when my brain is too anxious to read even one more word of legalese. I only have another hour before the team leaves for the arena anyway, and that feels like more than enough reason to call it a day.
But now what am I supposed to do?
I don’t remember the last time I was this restless.
When Parker texts me a few minutes later, letting me know she finally arrived at the hotel, I practically bolt from my room, happy for any kind of distraction. She’s stillwaiting at the front desk to get her key when I find her and give her a big hug.
“Hi! You made it!” I say.
“Finally. Did you just come down to meet me?”
“I needed an excuse to get out of my room. How was your trip?”
Parker frowns. “Stressful, actually. Do you have anywhere else to be right now? Can we talk for a sec?” She moves up to the counter and gives the clerk her name.
