Page 39 of Trip Me Up

15

SAM

I letthe hot water run over my skin, trying to warm myself from the outside in. Nashville wasn’t as frigid as Chicago had been, but it was still colder and drier than I was used to. And then there was the stuff that made me cold on the inside: reading in front of strangers, fearing I’d stumble and they’d laugh. Not to mention Paul Swift’s reminder that all I was good for was making tech connections. Like a router.

He’d treated his son the same way. He’d used him, too. I knew what it was like to be nothing more than a bargaining chip to a parent. He’d stood up to Paul the way I wished I could’ve stood up to my mother. To Heidi. And Dr. Martell. I’d hugged Niall out of admiration.

Bullshit. It wasn’t admiration that made my nipples go hard against his chest.

I poured my rosemary shampoo into my hand and massaged it through my hair. The attraction I’d felt had caught me by surprise. If I hadn’t been lying to him, Niall could’ve been a good friend. Kind. Supportive.Look at me. It’ll be fine.

Fine? Hardly. Fourteen more days of being on display, of unfamiliar rooms, of airplane air and the jarring clicks of camera shutters. I scrubbed the shampoo out of my hair like I could wash it all away: the prickle of sleet on my cheeks, the strangers’ stares, the brush of Niall’s hand that made goosebumps erupt on my skin.

Bilbo Baggins’ high-pitched barks startled me.

“Hey, Bilbo Baggins, it’s okay. I’m almost done,” I shouted through the open bathroom door. I couldn’t let him bark too long. The hotel manager who’d checked us in had given Bilbo Baggins the stink-eye. He’d said they had a no-pets policy but would make an exception for my service animal as long as he behaved himself.

But Bilbo Baggins had forgotten that warning, and he was yapping his little head off. I shut off the water and wrapped a towel around myself before stepping out into the room.

Bilbo Baggins yipped again and scrabbled at the door. Shit, he’d scratch it, and then we’d be in trouble. I strode toward him. “It’s okay, little buddy. It’s not an intruder. It’s just our dinner.” When I’d placed the order, I’d typed into the comments that they should leave it outside my door without knocking for exactly this reason. But they didn’t always read the comments.

I scooped up Bilbo Baggins and opened the door to grab the food. The food wasn’t there on the hall carpet. Only a pair of sneakers. Low-cut socks. A muscled set of calves, sweat trickling through the forest of auburn hair. A pair of nylon workout shorts, on the longer side but short enough to show off the lower edge of a shapely pair of quadriceps.

A T-shirt, damp and sticking to his torso. And were those—my gaze stalled out there—ab muscles? The shirt wasn’t tight enough for me to count, but there was definition. For sure.

And holy shit, those pecs. Squared-off, the nipples pointed. To either side, the sleeves could barely contain the biceps that bulged under them. Were all Nashville delivery guys this cut? My skin tingled. If so, I might stay awhile. And order lots of Thai food.

A throat cleared, reminding me that there was a person standing in the hall, not just a sexy fitness mannequin. I looked up into his face.

“I—ah—didn’t know if you knew—ah—your towel—I mean, your food. Your food is here.” Niall’s face had gone as red as his hair. When he held the plastic bag toward me, his forearm muscles bulged. My mouth watered, and not because of the aroma of my drunken noodles.

I took it from him, but I was still staring at his naked forearm. I’d only seen his arms covered by those plaid shirts he always wore. I had no idea he was hiding all…this. He’d been handsome in his suit at that fundraiser when I’d first met him, but now? Delicious. My fingers accidentally brushed his, and I felt a zing right down to my core.

His chest expanded sharply. “You always answer the door in a towel?” His voice was rough.

“I thought—never mind. Bilbo Baggins was barking.”

“You should be careful.” He jerked his gaze from my torso—had he been staring at Bilbo Baggins or my towel-covered chest?—to my face. “That dog isn’t going to protect you from someone with nefarious purposes.”

I clutched Bilbo Baggins to my chest, pinning the towel in place. “It’s only you at my door. Do you have nefarious purposes?”

He licked his lower lip. “No.” His freckles had disappeared against his flushed skin.

I leaned against the doorframe, letting the bag of food dangle from my fingers. It’d been a while since my last one-night stand. With Kyle. Okay, that’d been a bad idea. But in general, hookups were great. All the pleasure, none of the vulnerability. “Are you sure?”

“No. I mean yes! I’m sure. I’d never. Not with—” He mumbled something that sounded likeinappropriate.

“Really?” I didn’t see anything so inappropriate. Aside from my being mostly naked in the open doorway. The towel, soaked at the top by my wet hair, loosened at my chest. I set down the food to have one hand free to hold it closed.

His gaze followed my hand for an instant and then shot back up to my eyes. “Sam, I respect you. You’re my colleague. I know there have been some instances of sexual harassment in the publishing industry, but I’m not one of those guys.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I’m not talking about sexual harassment. I’m talking about two consenting adults scratching an itch.” The Niall-sized itch I’d had since I’d hugged him earlier. He’d been decent to me. Who cared about the silly dedication?

He wouldn’t hurt me. Couldn’t. I wouldn’t let him. A book tour with benefits wasn’t like screwing my officemate. Just a little casual hotel sex and then, bam, two weeks later, done, and I’d never see him again. No messy feelings. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. Did the gift shop stock condoms?

“But you’re my tour partner. I wouldn’t—”

“What, you’re some kind of monk? Or a no-sex-outside-marriage person? Your body is a temple and all that?” The temple thing was working for him. I wanted to saunter in and splay myself across his altar. I squeezed my thighs together.

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