Page 31 of A Little Too Forward

“But that’s what reservations are for. To avoid this situation entirely.”

“That’s what I said!” I give a non-laugh.

“As I said, I can arrange one of our shuttles to drive you over—” The clerk starts, but I’ve heard enough.

“She’s not going anywhere,” Max interrupts and grabs my hand. Pulling me and my suitcase away from the desk, he drags me to the elevator banks. “You can stay with me. I have a second bed in my room you can use.”

“Max. That’s a very kind offer, but I think—”

“Come on, Bean. You’re exhausted and I’m sure running on fumes at this point. Just take the room. I promise to be on my best behaviour.”

I roll my eyes. “The last time you said you’d be on your best behaviour, you stunk up our camping tent and tied everyone’s laces together.”

Max’s eyes flare in shock, probably because the memory is an old one.

“I can’t believe you remember that. But in my defense, the shoe thing was hilarious. I was a genius in pulling that off.”

“Debatable,” I mumble.

“And,” he emphasizes, “it wasn’t me that farted the whole night. I swear it was Marshall. I was sixteen and way past fart jokes by that age.”

“Typical you would blame your baby brother for the gas attack.”

He drags a hand over his chest in an X. “Cross my heart, it was a hundred percent him.”

“Jury’s still out.” Looking down at my bag, then over to the far doors, I shiver as a flurry of snow blows into the warm lobby. I really don’t want to have to go back out into that. Especially if there isn’t a guarantee of a room at the next hotel.

Standing as tall as I can, I look up at Max with my most serious face and nod. “Okay. If you’re okay with it, I would be grateful to take the extra bed in your room. It’s not ideal, but we’re adults. We can make it work.”

Reaching for my suitcase handle, he nudges my hand away and takes hold.

“Come on. Let’s head up.”

I hadn’t even realized he’d hit the elevator button, but like magic, as soon as he took control of my suitcase, the doors opened. Hesitating only a second, I follow him in and lean against the mirrored back wall.

A sigh escapes me. My whole body feels heavy with sleep, not used to a work travel schedule. This day has zapped all my energy. And tomorrow, I’ll have to do it again. Rolling my head to the side, I examine Max and his features.

I have a smidgen more respect for him after today. The travelling part of the job sounds fun and luxurious, but it’s hard on the body. Add a demanding professional hockey game to the day that not only tests his endurance but mental stability…damn, the man truly is incredible.

“What are you looking at?”

Blinking out of my thoughts, I shake my head and stand fully again. “Sorry, blanked out there for a second.”

The elevator doors ding open, and I rush off, feeling a little shy at being caught staring so intently.

“This way, Bean,” Max directs me with a tilt of his head. I walk slightly behind, dragging my feet. A click and a beep sound, but I’m too focused on putting one foot in front of the other.

“That’s you.” Max points to a still-made bed, closest to the door. “I would have given you the other one, but I’ve already made myself at home over there.”

“This is perfect,” I tell him, glancing over to the other bed and seeing the sheets already thrown back. “Were you already in bed?”

“Yeah. I tweaked my shoulder during tonight’s game and was icing it when I realized room service forgot my aioli sauce. Figured it was easier and faster if I just went down to the restaurant to get it.” He lifts what I thought was an empty hand to show me a small plastic container. Incredible. “It was pure luck that I ran into you in your hour of need.”

Yeah, just my luck, I think sarcastically. “It was not my hour of need. Maybe a mere moment of need that I could have figured out on my own. Eventually.” And after completely exhausting myself and my personal bank account. “Don’t make me regret this, Daws.”

He holds a hand up to his chest, offended. “I would never,” he replies in an old Southern accent.

“Idiot.”

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