Page 27 of You Chive Me Crazy
“I don’t want you to be sauntering around here naked,” Zoe said, with a piercing glare in her eyes, as if she were daring me to argue.
I huffed. “I don’t saunter, I swagger.”
More glaring. “I’m being serious.”
“Well, that certainly is bad luck,” I tried to say with a straight face. “I wasjustgetting ready to film a remake ofThe Full Montyright here in this very room. What will I do now?” I raised my head and tapped my temple with my finger, tongue pressed against my inner cheek, as I pretended to think.“Sorry. No can do.”
“What do you meanno can do?” she asked.
“I wear nothing above the waist when I sleep. I get too hot at night. So you’re going to see my chest, whether you like it or not.” I thought about it. “Maybe that’s the problem. You’re afraid you’re going to like what you see.” I couldn’t help needling her. It was far too much fun, considering her present attitude.
Zoe wrinkled her nose and snorted. “Oh, please. Can you turn down your ego? It’s blinding me.”
“I will make the appropriate adjustments, as will you, with your demands.” I wagged my finger. “The first rule is overruled, but don’t worry, I plan on wearing my pajama bottoms unless you have a problem with silk. Next rule.”
“You’re impossible.” Zoe shook her head in annoyance, then walked over to the closet. She pulled out all the pillows and blankets from the stash that Betsy had mentioned before dinner, dropping them to the floor in between the reading chair and the window. “You can sleep here.”
I chuckled. “Nice try.”
Zoe looked up. “I’m serious.”
I lost my smile and blinked twice. “Let me get this straight . . . You want me to sleep on the cold, hard floor while you bask in the glory of a luxurious bed that’s big enough for three or four people?”
“Yes,” she said without hesitation.
I squatted and knocked on the floor three times as I enunciated each word. “Hard. Wood. Floor. It’s called that for a reason, you know. Why don’t you show some mercy to the man who has only been trying to help you since you crashed your truck? And I don’t know what kind of person you think I am, but I have no problem staying on my side of the bed. I should be the one who’s worried. Shall we talk aboutthe kiss?”
Zoe froze. “Seriously? There was no kiss, and you know it.” She shook her head, but I caught the glimmer in her eyes despite her protests.
“You keep telling yourself that,” I said. “There was definitely a kiss.”
I understood there was a chance she didn’t remember it—considering the state she had been in at the time—but I would never forget that kiss.
“And this is my room, remember?” I added. “I’ll stay on my side of the bed. We are here to sleep. That’s all. No funny business. I’m not even remotely interested. Promise.”
Zoe glanced back over at the bed, then back at me, thinking.
“Fine,” she finally said.
Honestly, I was surprised she gave in so easily.
Maybe she had a heart after all.
“Thank you,” I said.
Zoe grabbed the two decorative pillows from the reading chair, teamed them up with the six decorative pillows from the bed, and used them to form a straight line right down the middle of the king-size bed. Then she grabbed the pillows and blankets she had dumped on the floor and continued to stack the pillows higher.
“This is the international no-sleep zone,” Zoe said, gesturing to the middle of the bed.
I rolled my eyes in annoyance. “Looks more like the Great Wall of China.”
She ignored me. “You stay on your side. I stay on mine. As you can see, our territories are clearly marked.”
“Clearly . . .”
“Any questions?”
I sighed. “How do you feel?”
