Page 71 of Hometown Halftime
Kinsey’s face fills with concern. “What’s the issue?”
“The second bedroom doesn’t have a bed yet.”
“Oh.” Her eyes dart to the living room. “That’s easy. I’ll take the couch.”
“Nope,” I say, shaking my head. “Absolutely not.”
“Riley,” she says, flopping her arms.
“You’re not sleeping on my couch.”
“It’s just for tonight. I’m sure we can get a blow-up mattress or something tomorrow.”
“Kinsey, you’ve dealt with enough this evening. You’ll take the bed.”
She folds her arms across her chest. “I’m not kicking you out of your own bed.”
“You’re not kicking me out. And I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“Riley,” she draws out.
I sarcastically match her tone. “Kinnnnnsey.”
We stare at each other, both stubborn enough that this could genuinely last all night if we let it. Her expression says she thinks my demand is ridiculous. Mine says I don’t care.
I hold her gaze. “I want you to be comfortable here.”
Kinsey looks down first, exhaling slowly through her nose. “You’re annoyingly sweet.”
I wink at her. “Thank you.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
“Still accepting it as one.”
That finally pulls a genuine smile out of her. Good. I’ll chase that smile all night if I have to.
I nod toward the stairs. “Tomorrow we’ll get the spare room figured out. We’ll make sure you have a bed, furniture, whatever you need.”
“You’re so calm about all this.”
“I’m an assistant coach now.” I spread my hands out to my sides. “I thrive under pressure.”
She shakes her head, but there’s warmth in it now instead of exhaustion. “You’re such a dork.”
“Alright,” I say, rubbing my hands together. “Important question. What’s your ideal disaster dinner?”
Her brows lift. “Disaster dinner?”
“Yeah. Your apartment imploded, so now you deserve emotional support takeout.”
“You know what sounds really good right now?” she asks.
“What?”
“Chinese food. Greasy Chinese food.”
I grin. “Excellent choice."
