Page 26 of Holidate Fail
Coming from the other bed.
And movement under the sheets.
Well, damn.
She hadn’t wanted to be with him, but it still stung. She’d forever be the nice girl, the best friend’s sister girl, the girl who was too quirky and not pretty enough to be anything else.
Was that…it sounded wet, whatever it was. And Heath just hummed.
HUMMED.
Dahlia stood up. “I’m going to get some air.”
The movement immediately stopped on the other bed. “Oh, my God, you’re still awake,” Lacole said.
“Yeah.” Dahlia crossed the room, avoiding looking at the lumps between the sheets on the other bed.
“You don’t have to go,” Lacole said with a distinct lack of conviction.
“I’m pretty sure I do.”
The door hadn’t even closed before Dahlia heard a gasp and more rustling. She leaned against the wall opposite her room, taking deep breaths, as she stared at the door to Kelly’s room. With a final exhale, she strode up and raised her hand to knock.
But who would she be to him? Wayne’s little sister, needing a rescue? The woman who laughed about lollipops with him? The one he’d tried to protect when he thought someone else had touched her without consent?
She’d probably never be just Dahlia to him. And right now, she didn’t want to be anyone else.
There were a million ways to talk herself out of this. And one way to see what would happen.
She knocked.
“Forget your key?” Kelly answered the door in a pair of boxers and nothing else.
Her throat dried out and all vocabulary left her brain. Water droplets ran down his chest. The hint of strength shaping his body over ten years ago had turned into well-developed pecs under a smattering of chest hair. She wanted to lick the water on his chest to those tight abs and down to the sexy V of his pelvis. She tore her eyes away from the treasure trail leading under his boxers before she completely embarrassed herself. More than she already had, that is.
He swept her into his room and poked his head into the hallway before closing the door behind them.
Chapter 8
Dahlia was there. In front of him. Without shoes and her long hair spilling over her shoulders like water flows over rocks and a calm expression on her face that belied her crossed arms squeezing tight. Kelly stilled his hand to keep from reaching out and pulling her closer.
“Are you okay?” She didn’t look okay. “What’s going on?”
“I’m fine.” Her voice revealed her exhaustion. She was most definitely not fine. He wanted to hold her, comfort her, have her relax in his arms and tell him all her secrets.
“Come sit down.” He guided her to the sole, king-sized bed. It was more comfortable than the lone room chair that was as soft as chicken wire.
She stopped at the foot of it. “It’s a bed.”
“Yes.”
“It’s a large bed.” She let out a quick huff of breath and sat down. “I don’t think Heath will be back tonight anyway. He and Lacole are…busy.”
A thrill raced to his groin at her words, but he stopped it just short of his appendix and forced it back up. “Busy.”
“Yeah, you know…” She shrugged, avoiding eye contact. “Euphemistically busy. I had to leave.”
Euphoria and anger warred in his body. How dare they treat her like that. Didn’t Heath see how amazing this woman was? Asshole. Kelly entertained the fantasy of one night before kicking it out the door. Even if Wayne didn’t kill him, Dahlia deserved better. More. “You’re welcome to stay here. I can take the…” He looked around at the minimalist room. “Floor.”
