“We would have been fired in Arizona,” Chloe says, laughing.
“No. Because we would have had a tour guide.” Vanessa takes Cooper’s hand as we step into the elevator and take it to the ground floor that leads to the street.
Chloe considers this. “They probably would have known way more about snakes and spiders, too.”
Vanessa nods. “Definitely.”
Ahead of us, two guys are stopped, their gazes predatory as they stare too long at Chloe and Vanessa, making every muscle in my shoulders tense. Chloe seems to notice them as well, slowing to walk by my side. I wrap my arm around her waist, and my annoyance with these wankers is fully eclipsed at the reality of this moment and how easy and right everything feels.
Once back at the hotel, Chloe stops to get some water while Vanessa and Cooper head upstairs to get ready for bed.
I lean against the counter, watching her bottom lip wrap around the bottle, the movement of her throat. It’s all so simple, and yet I can’t stop staring because I’ve worked to ignore these details for so long.
“You aren’t really keeping my underwear, are you?”
I push away from the counter, closing the distance between us. “I intend to save an entire collection.”
“Remind me not to wear any cute ones.”
I chuckle, pulling her against me, her quick gasp of surprise falling against my lips. “Stay with me.” I know Vanessa’s been staying in Cooper’s room since Arizona.
Her green eyes shift between mine, a warmth radiating in my chest that has me rubbing small circles over her hips with my thumbs. “Let’s give Coop a little time to adjust. He gave me the courtesy. I feel like it’s important to return it.”
She’s right. I know she’s right, and still, I want to fight her on it. “It’s probably better. I have to be up in a few hours, so I’d wake you up.”
Her eyebrows jump. “A few hours?” Her gaze drops back to my mouth. “We should have come back sooner. You’re going to be exhausted tomorrow.”
I bury my face in her hair and breathe her in. “We should have tried being nice to each other a long time ago. We’re good at this.”
She tips her head back and rolls her eyes. I have to hide my smile. “For the record, I was always nice to you.”
“You wouldn’t have voiced concern about me not getting enough sleep before,” I tease.
“Only because you would have insisted it meant something.”
My smile can’t be concealed. “But it would’ve. Isn’t that what you said? Freshman year?”
Her gaze turns fiery, her lips twisting with a challenge, but before she can respond, I kiss her. Her lips are still parted and firm, assuring me I caught her off guard, but it only takes her a second to catch up, her arms winding around the back of my neck as her body molds to mine. What begins as an intense warring of tongues and wills slows with her back against the refrigerator, our lips languid as we taste each other and memorize each other’s breaths and warmth.
I kiss her again, softly, sweetly, noting the way the edges of her lips curl with a grin before she opens her eyes.
When we hit her bedroom door, I consider following her inside. I already broke the rule of sleeping with a woman in my bed with her a few nights ago, so it seems like a rudimentary concern at this point. Still, there’s a conflict in my chest that is nearly impossible to silence—exchanges between my parents and advice given from my father and grandad and dozens of unsolicited requests about how you can’t move too fast, give too much, or expect a lot because each will lead to disappointment and all are inevitable.
Chloe reaches for me, smoothing a crease in my forehead with her finger. Her brows are cinched, and for a second, I recognize the expression, have seen it a thousand times when she and Vanessa look at each other, only with them it’s as though they can each tune in to the same wavelength and understand each other’s thoughts. It can be eerie and strange as shit when the two don’t say a word and suddenly burst into laughter. Still, I know she’s checking in with me, recognizing the change in my demeanor and mood.
Fucking expectations.
Fucking rules.
I nod and then bend to kiss her. “Have a good night.”
She smiles. “You too.”
I turn, heading the rest of the way to my room. Inside, I flip on the lights, feeling restless and agitated. I consider forgoing sleep altogether and heading up to the gym to workout. This trip has sent my work outs into overdrive as regret and vulnerability tread a close line that constantly leaves me off-kilter. Instead, I sit at the table in my room and turn on my laptop, opening all the spreadsheets I need to be going over for tomorrow.
An hour later, a knock at my door has me crossing the room, my chest betraying my mind. On the other side is Chloe, her lips set in a slash. Her hair is wet, and she’s wearing a pair of shorts and a red Brighton T-shirt. “This was in my purse,” she says, handing me an envelope.
I stare at it but don’t touch it. “It’s yours.”
“I don’t want it.” She shoves it against my chest.
“Why not?”
“Because it makes me feel like a whore.”
“It’s your winnings.”
“That I won with your money.”
“So?”
“I told you I didn’t want it.” She begins to turn around, and I tag her waist, all of the fears and advice that had rained down on me a mere hour ago gone as I stare at the anger and hurt swirling in her green eyes. I toss the money onto the nearby couch so I can place both hands on her.
“That’s fair. I overstepped, and I’m sorry.”
Her body relaxes under my
