Page 22 of My Favorite Bad Decision
I glance up…there is, indeed, some ice hanging from the ceiling of my tent. But that doesn’t mean he gets to come into mine. “Go somewhere else. Go sleep with the porters.”
The look on his face is positively surly. He has circles under his eyes. “Are you really under the impression that the porters are sleeping in luxurious multi-person tents with room for an additional person? Move over or I’ll just lie on top of you.”
“Yeah, I bet you’d love that,” I grumble as I slowly, reluctantly, acknowledge that I am probably the only person on this trip with space for another human in their tent, and that if Miller goes to the porters, they’ll give him their tent and sleep outside because that’s the sort of tour this is—the kind where the customer better not come down at the end with a single complaint or someone’s out of a job.
I slide over only a little, to show how unwilling I am to be a part of this. Except we’re practically on top of each other as he spreads out.Shit.I move over to the far edge of the tent instead.
“I don’t think you took into account how likely you are to be stabbed in your sleep with me as a tentmate.”
“If your performance on our hikes is at all indicative, I don’t think you’recoordinatedenough to stab me to death.”
He’s so annoying. I don’t know why I want to laugh. “If you snore, you’re out.”
“I amdefinitelygoing to snore, and I’d like to see how you manage to kick me out when I’m twice your weight.”
I don’t know why it hits me in such a weird way, the fact that he’s twice my weight. He basically said it as a threat, and it somehow triggers all the worst things. A not unpleasant clench in my stomach, at the base of my spine. I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping I can forget it was there.
The two of us sleeping this close was not on my Kilimanjaro bingo card.
“I’ll probably be up for the rest of the night, now,” I grouse.
“Take a sleeping pill. I know you brought some.”
I check the time. “It’s too late for that. I’ll be groggy.”
“Then congratulations, you’ve already gotten enough sleep, but I have not, so shut the fuck up.”
His breathing grows even seconds later and progresses to light snores within minutes. I can’t believe he got the last word. I can’t believe he just told me to shut the fuck up after heinvadedmy tent, which I’m pretty sure is a felony.
I mostly wish I’d gotten the last word.
“Youshut the fuck up,” I say quietly.
I’m glad he doesn’t wake. It wasn’t my best work.
* * *
When my eyes open,Miller’s sleeping face is the first thing I see. He doesn’t look entirely evil in dawn’s early light. He looks…stern but kind. Long lashes brush his high cheekbones, and three days’ worth of unshaved jaw surround his soft mouth.
Of course Maren fell in love with you.
The words float through my head before I can call them back and I sit up abruptly. “Rise and shine, weirdo. And get the fuck out of my tent.”
“There’s my little ray of sunshine,” he replies. “You’re just as charming at six AM as you are by candlelight. I can see why your father thought he could set us up by sending you on this trip.”
I make some noise that combines a snort, a laugh, and a gasp. “You think my dad sent me here toset us up? You slept with mysister.”
“That was a lifetime ago. I don’t remember it, so I doubt she does.”
“I doubt she does either, though it has little to do with the passage of time. And my dad couldn’tpossiblyhave wanted that. He also couldn’t have known your precise itinerary, and more importantly, I’m on the cusp of getting engaged.”
“Your father hates Blake.”
It’s still bizarre to me that he and my father are friends. And more bizarre that they’ve been discussing me. “My father hates everyone. Including you, most likely…he just hasn’t gotten around to making it clear. And if he was going to try to push me on someone, you’d be the last person he’d choose.”
He rolls toward me. “You could do a lot worse.”
“I’m not certain that that’s true.”
