Page 16 of Stick Fight

Bottle halfway to his mouth, he pauses and cocks his head. “You’re not going to make me laugh, are you?”

“Payback is a bitch,” I joke. “But no. I’ve already had a hot bath and I’m not interested in getting wet again.”

The second the words leave my mouth, his expression shifts. His jaw clenches like he’s in pain, his gaze flickering away as his entire body tenses like he just took a slap shot to the chest.

And that’s when it hits me.

Oh. My God.

That sounded…sexual.

What is wrong with me?

I snort out a laugh, because there’s not enough time to get into it, and yeah, let’s just add that sexually sounding mishap to the growing list of things wrong with me tonight.

“I didn’t mean,” I begin to backpedal, flailing through my own embarrassment. “I mean…” I point downward. “You know, not that.”

Way to make it worse, girl.

He groans. “No, I get it.”

Deciding it’s best to remove myself from this situation before I make it worse, I push to my feet. Except my legs are about as stable as a newborn deer. Roman stands at the same time, steadying me with his hands on my waist, and whoa. Suddenly, I’m very aware of how close we are.

His head dips, his eyes scanning my face. “You good?”

“Yeah,” I manage. “It’s late. I should probably…” I gesture toward the sofa. “Sleep.”

“Okay. You take the bathroom first. I’m going to shower after you’re done, and you’re not sleeping on the sofa. Take the bed.”

I shake my head. “Roman, you’ve done so much for me tonight. I can’t kick you out of your own bed.”

He’s already yanking the cushions off the sofa. “This pulls out, Gabs. It’s probably softer than the bed.”

“And lumpier,” I add.

He winks. “Soft and lumpy, what’s not to love?”

Oh, God. Are we still talking about the mattress? Judging by the playful gleam in his eyes, I think not.

“I…uh…”

He points to the bathroom. “Go, get ready for bed.”

With a sigh, I drop to my knees, bending forward to rummage through my suitcase for my cosmetic kit. I’m fully focused on this task, until I hear a choking sound.

I freeze.

Then slowly turn my head to find Roman staring.

His throat makes a sound.

Like he’s in pain—again.

Maybe he’s holding his breath to get rid of his hiccups, or…wait.

Realization slams into me.

I’m down on the floor, on all fours.

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