Page 17 of Lost on Ice
When I finish, I get out, dry myself off, and get dressed. I pause to listen to hear if Jake is out in the room, and when I don’t hear anything, I open the bathroom door.
At the very same time, the hotel room door opens.
I freeze and stare at Jake, who gazes back at me in clear surprise. For several moments, neither of us moves. My gaze drops and I scan his body from top to bottom. He’s so tall…and his shoulders are still so broad. My hand itches to reach out and touch his chest to see if it’s still as chiseled and solid as it was three years ago.
I meet his gaze again and only then realize that I’m all but gawking at him. However, he slowly drags his eyes up and down the length of my body, not hiding the fact that he’s checking me out. He raises a brow and clears his throat, the corner of his mouth curving upward. “Going to bed?”
I bite my lip and look away, my cheeks warm. “Uh, yeah… excuse me. Sorry.”
Why am I apologizing? Shaking my head, I slip out of the bathroom and scurry to my suitcase to shove my clothes and toiletries inside. Jake shuts the hotel room door, and I can hear him moving behind me, but I don’t turn around or acknowledge him in any way. I go to grab a blanket off the bed and a few pillows and begin setting them up on the floor.
“What are you doing?” Jake asks, his deep voice startling me and sending warmth flooding through me.
Whirling around, I try to give him a nonchalant look, but I’m afraid I don’t quite pull it off.
“Obviously making a bed on the floor,” I answer. “For you.”
He rolls his eyes and scoffs. “Come on, seriously? You’ve been telling Sophie all day that we’re both adults and don’t haveto make this weird. We can share a fucking bed. It’s not like we haven’t done so before.”
I clench my teeth, irritation burning away my nervousness. This fucking asshole has the nerve to act like nothing has changed. Like he didn’t ghost me and then proceed to not even try to reach out for four fucking years.
Arching my brow at him, I don’t say a word as I throw back the covers and climb into the bed.
“Sleep well,” I tell him as I tuck myself in.
He stares at me, clearly baffled by my response and it actually makes me want to laugh. His pouting face is a lot like Lilah’s when she throws a fit.
As I curl up under the covers, he just stands there slackjawed. After a long moment, he bends down and starts messing with the floor bed I’ve created. I glance over, and while the clear worry in his eyes cracks me up, I start feeling bad. There’s no way he gets a good night’s rest on the floor.
Rolling my eyes, I huff and give in. “Fine. Get in.”
He grabs one of the pillows from the floor and throws it back on the bed. When he starts to undress, my cheeks heat, and I bite my lip, unable to tear my gaze away. He takes off his shirt, and at the sight of his broad chest and rippling abs, and my mouth goes dry.
Fuck, the man is a work of art.
“Like what you see?” he teases.
Damn it, I’m gawking again. I lift my chin and give him a bored look.
“It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.” I shrug. “Just good to see you’re staying in shape. Must take a lot of work. You’re getting kind of up there in pro-athlete years, after all.”
His nostrils flare and he clenches his jaw. “Cheeky as ever, aren’t you?”
He moves to climb into the bed next to me. Sinking further under the covers, I pull the blankets up to my chin and stubbornly stare up at the ceiling as he gets comfortable. I try not to think about the last time we were in a bed together, but I can still feel desire pooling deep in my belly.
He turns off the light, and I try to relax and will myself to fall asleep quickly, but I’m too aware of him. His heat. His size. The mere inches between us.
“Do you still sleep like a starfish?” he asks, surprising me.
When his words fully settle in, I roll my eyes again. “Are you still a clingy cuddler?”
He lets out a low growl. “I’m only a cuddler out of self-preservation. I’d fall off the bed otherwise, especially with you—you hog the whole thing.”
Irritation pulsing through me, I sit up and turn the light on so I can glare down at him.
“Why do you have to besuchan asshole?”
He sits up as well and meets my gaze. “At least I’m not a bed hog.”
