Page 43 of Chips & Checks
“Yup. Made it very clear I wasn’t going to be rubbing anything for him. I’ll take the couch, okay?”
I glance at the bed, then quickly at the small couch across the room. “You always talk this much when you’re nervous, Dr. Sawyer?”
She nods rapidly. “Nervous? Nope. Not at all. Perfect. Perfect. Good boundaries. Totally platonic.”
“Absolutely platonic,” I echo, knowing we’re both full of shit, but she’s so cute when she’s stammering, I’m not going to stop her.
Five minutes later, I’m crammed on the tiny couch, knees practically at my chin, while Violet scrolls endlessly through the hotel’s streaming choices.
“Pick something,” I finally say. “Anything.”
“I can’t decide,” she admits, glancing over at me. “You pick.”
I sigh dramatically. “Fine, but don’t complain.”
She smirks. “I’ll complain anyway.”
She eyes me skeptically, clearly noticing how uncomfortable I look. “Bowen, seriously—come over here. We’re both adults. There’s plenty of room on the bed. How would we explain it to Coach Metcalfe if you pulled something because you’re contorting yourself on my hotel couch?”
“I’m fine,” I lie, shifting awkwardly. “Completely comfortable.”
“Yeah, right,” Violet says dryly, patting the space beside her. “You look like a pretzel. Just get over here. I promise I won’t bite.”
I relent with a sigh, pushing off the couch and padding over to settle in beside her, careful to leave enough space between us so this can still technically count as platonic. She’s barely hidden her grin since I gave up on the couch.
“Comfortable?” Violet teases lightly, nudging my knee with hers.
“Not bad at all,” I admit, stretching my legs carefully, making sure I don’t accidentally brush against her again. If I do, this charade might end faster than I intended.
Just as we settle into a tolerable silence, Violet’s phone buzzes loudly on the bedside table. She leans over, checks the screen, and groans.
“It’s Ash. She’s FaceTiming.” Violet glances at me, eyebrows raised. “Should I answer?”
“Might look suspicious if you don’t,” I point out, feeling mischievous despite myself. “I mean… with the Chad situation.”
Violet sighs dramatically but answers the call anyway. Ash’s cheerful face pops onto the screen, immediately suspicious. Her eyes narrow slightly, scanning Violet’s face through the phone.
“Why are you answering so late, Vi? Are you—” Ash stops abruptly, eyes widening in surprise. Her mouth hangs opendramatically. “Oh my god, Violet Sawyer! There’s a man in your bed!”
Violet’s face goes bright pink. “Ash—”
I lean over, grinning into the camera. “Hi, Ash.”
Ash squeals loudly enough to pierce my eardrums. “Bowen Murphy? Bowen freaking Murphy is shirtless in your bed on a team road trip? Vi, you minx!”
“It’s not what it looks like,” Violet protests weakly.
Ash snorts. “Oh, it better be exactly what it looks like. I’m thrilled, actually. Proud, even.” She winks at me. “Good job, Murph. Take good care of her.”
“I plan to,” I say, deliberately keeping my voice even. Violet elbows me in the ribs, blushing furiously, but smiling despite herself.
“You two are adorable. Go forth and sin responsibly,” Ash declares cheerfully. “Just remember—safe words matter.”
“Ash!” Violet nearly drops the phone, frantically hitting end call.
She covers her flaming face with both hands, groaning into them. “I am never going to hear the end of that.”
I chuckle softly, nudging her gently. “I think she approves.”
