Page 54 of You, with a View

The ride up is too fast and excruciatingly slow. The hallway is lined with plush carpet that muffles our footsteps; it’s so silent that I hear Theo’s soft exhales beside me. They’re a little fast, and when I look over, his gaze moves up from somewhere south of my eyes.

The butterflies in my stomach migrate south expediently. “You’re not coming into my room.”

“I didn’t ask to,” he murmurs.

“Right. Because we agreed we weren’t going there.”

“Zero interest in that.” He grins at my disbelieving look, amischievous one I haven’t seen in years. “I mean it. I wouldn’t want to do anything you weren’t enthusiastically into.”

“It’s not about enthusiasm.”

“Right. It’s about my granddad.”

“It’s about everythingexceptmy enthusiasm.”

I shouldn’t have said that out loud, though it’s not a secret anymore. He looks at me like it was, and my body heats in response.

We’re at my room now. I should shove my keycard into the slot, shut the door behind me, and double lock it. But I don’t. My self-control is crumbling, and it falls apart completely when I turn and find him too close, looking down at me with eyes on fire.

“My brother made a bet with his girlfriend. I mean, my best friend. She’s both things.” I’m babbling. “Whatever. My pride depends on not giving in to this.”

One of Theo’s eyebrows arches in amusement. “What were the terms of the bet?”

Oh god, what have I done? My brain is lust addled.

“If we hooked up on a certain day, one of them would win money. Thomas already lost.”

Theo moves in closer. His lashes lower with the meandering path of his gaze. The thick sweep of them over his skin looks almost sweet. I wonder what they’d feel like onmyskin—on the back of my neck if he kissed me there.

“What was his bet?” he asks, his voice low.

“Three days. Sadie’s is ten.” I won’t tell him about the other bet. It’s not going to happen.

But this might: Theo’s mouth on me. I want it so badly I’m nearly panting. I grip the door handle just for something to hold on to.

“What do you mean when you sayhook up?”

“Why are you asking so many questions on a throwaway bit of information?” I ask, irritated with his pressing and his closeness.

“It’s not throwaway and you know it. What does it mean?”

“Sex.” I say it like we’re in the middle of it.

His eyes darken. “So if we just...” He trails off, staring at my mouth.

“Kissed,” I manage.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Then it doesn’t count. For the bet.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“And we’re in Vegas, so what happens here—”

“Stays here.”

“Yeah,” he repeats, his voice going hoarse. Our gazes lock and he won’t ask or push, but if I want it, then—

I let out a breath. “Just once. It could be our secret.”

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