Page 37 of Protecting the Boundary
“They don’t have anymore.”
Her eyes go wide. “What?”
I rub at the back of my neck. “Turns out they only had the one kid’s cot left. All the large ones are being used.” What I don’t tell her is the concierge assumed Meredith and I were a couple and would only need a kid’s cot.
“So…we have to share a bed?” she asks, her dark brow arching.
“Looks that way. You okay with that?” I mean, at least it’s a king-size bed, so it’s not like we’d be forced to cuddle.
“Areyou?” she asks.
I shrug. “Yeah, I mean I’m exhausted and you’re exhausted. It’s not like you’ll take advantage of me,” I say with a smile.
Her jaw drops. “No, I wouldn’t.”
“So, it’ll be fine.”
“Fine.”
I let her use the bathroom first and spend the five minutes that she’s in there moving Kaylee to the cot and then staring at the bed. Panic starts to swirl in my gut—or maybe it’s nervousness, which is something I haven’t felt in a very long time—the longer I stare at the king-size bed which suddenly seems much smaller.
The bathroom door opens and Meredith comes out wearing pajama shorts and an oversized T-shirt. Nothing about her attire screams sexy and yet it’s hard to pull my gaze from her bare, toned legs. I brush past her, careful not to touch her, and then close the bathroom door.
Okay, this is going to be fine. We’ll sleep on our separate sides and it’ll all be fine.
I brush my teeth and then realize it won’t be fine.
I didn’t pack pajamas. I always sleep in my boxer briefs and wasn’t planning on having anyone else in the room with me.
My hand is heavy on the door handle as I press it down and open it, walking back into the room. Meredith’s gaze catches mine, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth, and the words just fall out of my mouth.
“I sleep in my underwear and didn’t pack pajamas.”
Even in the dim light, I can see her cheeks flush. “Oh,” she says, her lips parting to make the shape of the word. They look glossier than I’m used to seeing, probably from when she licked them. Her gaze drops down to my pants, and my stomach tightens as I beg my body not to respond to her stare.
I do not need to embarrass myself in front of the first woman who’s stirred up anything remotely close to feelings in over three years.
She puts her hand up. “I’ll cover my eyes so you can getundressed.” Her voice shakes a little, and I wonder if she’s feeling the same nerves I am.
I quickly strip out of my pants and dress shirt, and get into the bed. We lie there on our backs, neither of us saying a word, but I can’t help but notice her breathing seems to be as uneven as mine. I can’t get my heart to settle down, and my ab muscles are flexed like my body is bracing itself for a tackle.
“Is this awkward?” I ask her.
“No?”
I turn my head to face her, a smile on my lips. “Were you asking me or telling me?”
She mirrors my position and then covers her face as she laughs. Her laugh is light, but a little throaty like her voice and it’s infectious.
She rolls her body to face me, and this time it’s my turn to mirror her pose. Despite how big the bed is, our pinkies from our hands nearly touch where they are placed beside our heads. Her dark gaze stares into mine as her smile fades into a thoughtful expression.
“You’re nothing like I expected when I took this job.”
“Right back at ya.”
“Romel?”
“Hmm?” Both of our voices have gotten quiet, but there’s something freeing about talking in the dark, something that brings down all the walls I’ve held up to protect me from ever getting hurt again.
