Page 69 of No Rings Attached
I was staring at a naked Drew.
Objectifying him in my head.
And I was only a tiny bit sorry about it.
“Shit!” I squeaked. My hands flapped uselessly at my sides. “Do you need—I don’t know—ice? A helmet?”
Flat on his back, Drew groaned. “No.”
And that’s when my panic grew worse. “Do you want me to get naked too? Like … so we’re even?”
His head snapped up. “No, no, everything’s fine!”
“Right, okay. That was weird. Forget I said anything.” I slapped my hands over my eyes and spun around, which was pointless, because the image was burned into my retinas forever. “I’ll just stand here with my eyelids closed like a decent human being.”
Behind me, frantic shuffling. A drawer opened and closed. Fabric rustled.
“You can turn around now,” he muttered.
I peeked one eye open. And instantly mourned the loss—athletic shorts, t-shirt—no more view of the newest national monument.
“Sorry,” I said, quickly. “About … all of it.”
You’re not sorry. Not even a little.
Shut up, Bad Eleanor!
His face was bright pink, matching the shade I usually wore when embarrassed. “Did you … need something?”
“Yes. Sort of.” I clasped my hands together like a Victorian orphan begging for scraps. “Soooo, funny story. The mattress you mentioned? Doesn’t exist.”
He frowned. “What? Of course it does. I put it in there myself.” He strode past me down the hall and into the guest room. Then his voice boomed, “Glamma!”
I cringed and perched on the edge of his California King size bed. Then immediately sprang back up. Sat down again. Up. Down. I looked like I was auditioning for a squat workout video.
When Drew reappeared, hair sticking out in every direction from running his hands through it, he looked one wrong word away from combusting. “Therewasone in there earlier today.”
“It’s totally fine. Really. Just give me a blanket and I’ll sleep in the tub. Or the floor. It’ll be like camping.” I forced a smile. “Minus the bugs.”
“You’renotsleeping in a bathtub.” He had that growly, mountain man vibe and voice going on again. And holy crap, my thighs clenched, which really didn’t help since I was suddenly all tingly and needy.
He narrowed his eyes. “You’ll take my bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
I shook my head. “No way. You’ve already done too much for me. I’m not stealing your bed, too. What’s next, your kidney?”Ugh, shut up, Ellie.
“Where’s your luggage?”
I gestured in the direction of the guest room. “It isn’t here. But I can sleep in my clothes tonight.”
He glared, stalked to his dresser, yanked out a t-shirt and shorts, and thrust them at me. “You’re wearing these. The bathroom’s through there. Toothbrush, toothpaste, top drawer.”
I huffed, stomping towards the bathroom. “We’re both adults. This is ridiculous. I can make my own choices.”
“Not when they’re not in your best interest,” he shot back.
I’d deal with the bed situation when I was done.
I slammed the bathroom door shut behind me, cheeks blazing, heart racing. And the only thought that cut through the chaos was this: I had absolutely, positively, seen everything.
