Page 76 of Resisting the Temptation
“We’ll share a room because it’s cost effective,” he declares. “I won’t force you to share a bed—since it seems to make you uncomfortable—but if a single bed is the only one available, I don’t have any control over that.”
I want to tell him I’m not uncomfortable sharing a bed with him. I’mtoo eagerto share a bed. I think sharing a bed with him for a whole night would probably tip me over the edge, and I'd fall completely in love with him.
You’re already halfway there.
Actually, now that I think about it, this road trip will be the thing that tips me over the edge. I’m going to haveto come back and end our arrangement because by the time we’re back in San Diego, I’ll be so in love with Ben Rossi I’ll need another week off of work to recover from the heartbreak.
“Let me finish packing, and then we can go pack your stuff,” I say, trying to stop the spiral of thoughts.
“I already packed. I didn’t want to give you any reason to tell me no.”
Of course he did.
“I planned on stopping in Vegas tonight so I wouldn’t have to drive straight through.”
Ben nods. “Works for me. I know just where we can stay.”
“I can help drive if you get tired—”
“No. You get to sit pretty in my passenger seat. I’ll do the driving.”
I don’t have it in me to fight him. “Fine.”
Chapter 36
Ben
While Emma finishes packing, I make myself comfortable on the desk chair in her room.
Her room is… not what I expected. Her office at work is so organized and neat, but her room is the complete opposite.
There’s a pile of clothes laying on the end of her queen-sized bed. Her sheets are hot pink with matching pillowcases, but instead of a matching comforter, she’s got some type of homemade quilt that looks like it’s made out of old T-shirts.
Maybe it’s because she’s been packing, but instead of putting her clothes back in the closet if she doesn’t want to take them, she tosses them on the end of the bed.
She has a wall full of random pictures in mismatched frames above her baby pink desk, which is covered in an array of office supplies and random pieces of mail. There’s a full-body mirror standing next to her closet—which is bursting with shoes and clothes.I can barely see inside the attached bathroom, but what I can see is makeup and skin care stuff strewn across the counter.
Is it possible for someone to be so organized in one aspect in their life, but not another?
It seems like Emma is.
Instead of it being off-putting, I find it makes me like her more. I want to know all the messy and disorganized parts of her. See what she hides beneath the mask.
For the last twenty minutes she’s been flitting between the bathroom and the bedroom, rolling clothes—I’ve counted eight outfits, not including pajamas—and gathering her toiletries.
“Do you need eight outfits for a not-even-five day trip?” I ask, watching intently as she rifles through what I assume is her underwear drawer. I want to know if she’s bringing any more of those pretty, lacy sets.
“I like to be prepared. I don’t always know if I’m going to want to wear the outfit I have planned. I know it’s silly, but I want to have options.” Her voice is quiet, and she won’t look at me as she says it. I think I’ve hurt her feelings.
“That makes sense. I usually wear the same thing every day, so I have no trouble packing. Will they all fit in your duffle, or do you need another bag?”
She finally looks at me. “Uh, they should all fit. Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not making fun of me for being an over-packer.”
Something pokes at my heart. Has someone done that in the past? Have they made fun of her for wanting to be prepared? I may not understand why she does it, but I’m not going to make fun of her for it.
