Page 37 of Thoroughly Pucked

And what? Give the bed to Dev and me? That’s even weirder, sharing a bed with justoneof the guys. “I’ll take the couch,” I say, eagerly volunteering. Then I jut out a hip and gesture to myself. “I’m not a big hockey player.”

“No way,” they say in unison.

“I’ll take it,” Dev says.

“I’m sure we can get a rollaway bed,” Ledger counters.

“When was the last time you saw one of those in a hotel?” Dev asks his friend, clearly skeptical.

“When was the last timeyousaw one?” Ledger fires back.

“On TV,” Dev says. “Some Christmas movie where there was, gee, only one room at the inn.”

“You and your Christmas movies,” Ledger says as the elevator chugs slowly. “I’m pretty sure in real life hotels offer rollaway beds and stuff.”

“They do,” Dev says, acknowledging Ledger’s point. “But when was the last time you slept on one?”

Ledger seems like he’s about to answer but his brow knits, as if maybe he’s trying to remember if he has conked out on one lately.

“Exactly,” Dev adds quickly. “It’s been a while. They’re hell on backs. Like in the movie when the rollaway bed was fuck-all uncomfortable. You want to wake up with your back trying to murder you?”

Ledger huffs but finally concedes, grumbling out a “no.”

Which means we’re back to square one. My heart speeds up uncomfortably. I’ve got to find a solution. But I don’t know how to fix this conundrum.

Maybe Ledger has an ace up his sleeve, though, because he waggles his phone. “But here’s another idea. I’ll just find the nearest Walmart and get an air mattress.” He barks into the device. “Google, where is the nearest Walmart?”

Spoiler alert: it’s not going to be close. But I’ll let him find that out on his own.

Ledger’s phone is cheery with its reply: “The nearest Walmart is thirty miles away. Two hours by car and ferry.”

Undeterred, Ledger asks again, “Google, where is the nearest camping supply store?”

This is going so badly. No matter how uncomfortable this whole situation is, I can’t let them go buy an air mattress to solve this problem.

Another upbeat response comes as the elevator slows: “The nearest camping supply store is four miles away.”

“Guys,” I say as we reach the fourth floor. “There’s no need for an air mattress. I’ll just get a tent at the camping store.”

Dev’s brow crinkles, and the furrow is adorable. Ledger’s lips part, but he’s speechless. Their double confusion over who’s getting what at the camping store is too cute—and precisely what I’d hoped for. This isn’t my first defuse-the-tension rodeo. “I’ll set it up outside. I’ve always wanted to sleep under the stars. It was actually on my adventure list for the honeymoon,”I say as I wheel my suitcase off the elevator, pretending like I really will pitch a tent to fix the situation.

Ledger growls. “You’re not sleeping in a tent, Aubrey.”

Dev nods fiercely. “You’re going to sleep in a big, comfy bed. We’re not letting you have anything but the honeymoon you deserve.”

But they deserve a good trip too. When we reach the room, I stop outside the door, turn to them, and lay down the rules. “Harry said it was a big bed. We’re friends. We’ll just share it as friends. It’ll be great.”

There. Sometimes a girl has to take charge and issue a bed proclamation.

Ledger swallows roughly, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Gruffly, he says, “It’ll be fine.”

True to his fun-loving nature, Dev gives an easy shrug. “I don’t move when I sleep, so I’m basically the best bed companion in the history of the world.”

A laugh bursts from Ledger. “There’s nothing you can’t turn into a pat on the back, is there?”

Dev’s smile is pure devil as he says, “Nope.”

He unlocks the door, opens it, and without giving a girl a warning, he scoops me up in his arms for the second time in as many days. His eyes meet mine, glimmering playfully as he says, “Let’s carry the bride over the threshold.”

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