Page 22 of Heartsmashed
“Good. This is good.” He moved past me, stepping into the cabin, still giving himself a pep talk. “See, I can do this. This is—” He stopped abruptly, his head on a slow swivel. “Uh, no. This is not good.”
I followed his gaze around the cabin. It was cozy and warm, with soft blankets across the bed, the couch, and a fireplace in the corner. “Is there a problem?”
“Of course there’s only one bed,” he muttered to himself. “Of course there is. Why would anything in my life be simple?”
Oh. Right.The bed situation.
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about sleeping arrangements before tonight. I had no reservations whatsoever about sharing a bed with Sawyer, but clearly he hadn’t thought this through.
“It’s manageable,” I said.
“Is it?” he asked, turning to face me. “Because I feel like this is where I should ask—and maybe I should’ve thought to ask sooner—but…what do you usually do in this situation?”
I had no idea what an actual escort would do or say. What was considered appropriate. I could only go by the here and now without letting my own selfish desires get in the way.
“I…adjust.”
“Like for the client?”
“For the situation.”
His brow furrowed as he studied me, like he was trying to figure out if I was dodging the question or if that was actually the answer.
Truthfully, it was both.
“Okay, well,” he said. “We’ll figure something out. I can take the floor. Or the couch. I mean, you’re doing me a favor, so I’ll sleep in the car before I make this weird.”
“It’s not weird.”
“It’s alittleweird.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but something stopped him. I didn’t miss the way his eyes quickly trailed down my body or how he bit his lip before looking back at the bed.
“Right,” he said. “Yeah. Okay. This is fine. Everything’s fine.”
The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it felt a little different. Awareness, maybe? Of the private space. The bed.
Each other.
Now that we were here, really doing this, it occurred to me what I’d gotten myself into. Here I was, with a guy I’d just met, pretending to be someone I wasn’t, all under the guise of doing a job. Helping him out.
I’d like to think I was that selfless, but it wasn’t the full truth. There was no way in hell I would be here if I weren’t attracted to the man currently unzipping his suitcase to avoid the elephant in the room.
His raw emotions made him all that more attractive, and I wondered, briefly, if I’d done this to torture myself. He wasn’t over his ex, that much was obvious.
Rebounds weren’t my thing—were they anybody’s thing?—but I’d meant what I said. I could help Sawyer. But just how far would I go to do that to my own detriment?
Sawyer cleared his throat, a leather toiletry bag in hand. “So, um, we should probably get ready for the welcome party.”
“Of course.”
He nodded and started for the bathroom before turning back around. “Beckett?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
