Page 34 of Bossing My Holiday
“They’re from Waverly, but I helped her pick them out,” Brax explains.
“Good man.”
“Why don’t you all get settled before supper?” my mother suggests. “Waverly, we instructed the bellhops to have your things brought to the suite with Tristan and Braxton.”
Oh shit.
11
BRAXTON
“You’ve never let my girlfriends sleep in the same room as me before,” Tristan counters.
His mother makes a dismissive noise. “You’re thirty-four years old, Tristan. I think I know you already sleep in the same bed as Waverly when you have sleepovers.”
I help Waverly stand because suddenly she looks like she’s about to pass out, and I don’t know if her legs can hold her.
“Sounds good,” I state. “I could use a nap to recharge.”
Tristan is on the other side of her, holding onto Waverly, and reluctantly, I release her because right now, she’s his and not mine, but I’m planning to change that when we get to the suite.
“Right. That’s great,” Tristan murmurs absently, and we head for the exit.
We step back onto the elevator and press the button for eleven.
“Um,” she says the moment the doors close. “You told me we’d have separate rooms. Separate beds.”
“Because I assumed we would. What do you want me todo?” he hisses, his voice low. “Go back up there and tell everyone I can’t share a bed with my girlfriend?”
“It was part of our deal. You promised.”
He throws his hands up. “Because she’s never let me before. Not until Dianna and I were married were we allowed to share a bed. I didn’t think this time would be any different, but I can’t exactly ask you to stay in one of the guest rooms, and I can’t request a hotel room, though I doubt there are any since it’s fucking Christmas!” He blows out a breath and attempts to calm himself down. “Trust me, Waverly. Sharing a bed with you is the last thing I want to do, but I don’t see how we have a choice.”
“I hate you.”
He rolls his eyes at her. “Yes, I know. You’ve only told me about a dozen times now. Get over it. You’re not my favorite person either, though you are my family’s, so thanks for that.”
“You’re both being ridiculous,” I comment, and their heads snap over to me. How they don’t see it, I don’t know. The reason they’re so upset is that they know something will happen if they’re in one bed together. “You sound like an old married couple.”
They ignore me.
“Do you want me to sleep on the floor?” He’s genuinely offering, and I laugh. Yup. Fucking ridiculous.
“I can’t ask you to do that. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”
“No, you won’t,” I tell her. “That will be caught in a minute. You have to share a bed.”
She groans and runs her hands through her hair. “Ugh. Fine. You better not be a cuddler,” she hisses at him.
He snickers. “Do I strike you as the cuddling type?”
“No. In fact, I didn’t think you slept at all. I thought vampires never slept.”
“Shut up,” I snap as the doors open and we walk down thehall toward Tristan’s apartment. “Seriously. Both of you. This is so fucking stupid I can hardly stand it.”
How do they not see what this is? That all their fighting is actually sexual tension they’re doing their best to ignore and pretend away.
“You’re telling me to shut up?”
