Page 92 of Holding You
Not that her sitting in my lap hinted at it or anything.
Or when I almost kissed her.
Shit.
She might already know and is choosing not to acknowledge it.
Without a word, she stops and holds the key card to the door. The green light shines, and she pushes the door open.
Still, I follow behind her, letting her take the lead on the vibe she wants in this situation.
Again, she stops suddenly and I almost bump into her.
“I’m going to kill my brother,” she groans and then walks further into the room, letting go of her suitcase when she’s next to the couch.
Like most rooms, the bathroom is to our right, and just past that is a little kitchen area with a two-person table. The mini living room is next to that, with the TV in the corner and the bed across from the couch.
The bed.
One.
And by the looks of it, it’s barely made for two people.
Ruby sits on the corner of it and closes her eyes.
She clearly doesn’t want to be in this situation, despite her saying she was fine, and I can fix this.
I back up toward the door.
“I’ll get another room.”
“What?” her gaze snaps to mine. “Why?”
“Because,”—I hold out my hand and gesture to the room—“you’re clearly not okay with this, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Her eyes lock onto mine, and I wish I knew what she was thinking.
“I’m fine. I promise. I just …” She shifts her gaze to the bed. “I thought we had two beds.” Her gaze moves to the couch.
Maybe that’s not a bad solution. I pick up a cushion.
“Not a pullout.”
“Of course it’s not.”
My eyes find hers again. “Last chance. I can go get my own room, or we share a bed.”
Because the world has decided to punish me, she bites her bottom lip, then quickly lets it go with a pop. “We share.”
“Alright, do you?—”
“I also suggest we entertain the idea of a possible truce this weekend in honor of my brothers and Sadie.”
“A truce?”
“Yes.” She nods as if it’s settled. “No arguing this weekend.”
I grin and then cross my arms.
