28. Annie

ANNIE

"Well, this is a problem." We both stare at the couch that's supposed to turn into a bed. But no matter what we do, the bed won"t come out. It's like the couch ate it and the hotel gods want us to sleep in the same bed.

"It's stuck," I say, for the seventh time. "I don't think we"re getting it out."

"I'm going to try one more time." He's determined to make this work, but it's not working. That couch is not turning into a bed and I can tell he's exhausted. We watched the sunset and then got some ice cream on our way back to our room. But it's past midnight at home, and Sam likes to go to bed early, I'm just waiting for him to snap. He has to be so tired.

"One more time," he mutters to himself again as he grabs hold of the rope and handle to pull the hide-a-bed out of the couch. Then he stands there.

"I thought you said one more time," I say, watching him.

He grunts. "I'm trying."

I bite my lip to hold in my laughter. "The bed is a king, Sam. It'll be fine."

At least, that's what I'm telling myself. It will be fine, totally fine. I'm sure not thinking about all those things he said earlier, about how our marriage isn't just on paper for him or about how he kissed me the last time we were together. Nope, absolutely not going there.

"I'll just sleep on the couch," he argues as he puts the cushions back on. "It'll be fine."

"You need a bed." There is no way his back will be fine if he has to curl up on the hard, small couch all night. "You can just sleep on top of the covers with the extra blankets for the couch bed, and I'll sleep under them. It's a memory foam mattress, we won't even bug each other."

He sighs, resigned. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

I smile at him. "I'm good. Let's sleep. We have a busy morning." I move to the right side of the bed, the furthest from the door and unfold the covers. I climb into bed and pat the side beside me. "Come on, I won't bite."

He hesitates for a second before he moves to the other side of the bed. He fluffs the pillow and unfolds the extra comforter that was in the closet. The bed shifts slightly at the weight of him and I take a slow, deep breath. It's just Sam, this is going to be fine.

There is a mountain of blankets between us when I wake up around three in the morning, and I'm drenched with sweat. I wrack my mind for any nightmares, but for the first time in a long time, I was actually having a good dream. One about Sam. I groan and force myself to get up and out of bed to look at the air conditioner, because I cannot sleep when it's hot. I blink against the darkness, only to see Sam's silhouette by the window, at the AC unit already.

"What's happening?" I ask him as I yawn. He doesn't look at me, he pushes another button on the AC unit and nothing happens.

"It sputtered to a stop about an hour ago and now it won't turn back on. I"ll call the front desk to see if we can get moved to a different room." He moves soundlessly around me and turns on a lamp on the table and presses the numbers needed to get to the front desk.

"Hi, yes. I'm in room 1203 and our air conditioner just stopped working. I see. Can we get moved to another room?"

I watch Sam as he talks to whoever is on the other side of the phone, grateful it's him and not me, because I do not like talking to people on the phone.

"And you're sure you can't move us to a different room?"

My heart sinks. There is no way I'm going to be able to sleep now. It's way too hot in here. I'm surprised I didn't wake up earlier. But I'm exhausted from yesterday.

"Okay, thank you," Sam says, then he hangs up the phone and looks at me. "So they are aware there is a problem, I guess their entire AC system is currently down. They are bringing someone in soon to get it fixed, but it might be a bit."

I swallow the panic rising in my chest. I am still not great at adapting when things don't go the way I anticipate.

"So, we'll open the sliding door. We're high enough up that it shouldn't be a problem, and I'm going to see if there's a fan in the closet, the guy at the desk said there should be. And if all else fails, we can fill up the tub with cold water and dunk ourselves to feel cooler."

I relax a tad. "Okay."

He smiles at me. "It's going to be alright, sunshine."

I nod, even though I don't believe him. I'm closest to the sliding door, so I open it and let in the humid, but slightly cooler night air. When I turn around, he is holding a small box fan that is probably older than the both of us, but it'll be better than nothing. At least we still have electricity. At least we had AC to start with. He plugs the fan in and sets it on the dresser across from the bed and turns it on.

It's pitiful, the amount of air it moves, but at least there's some sort of air flow.

He turns off the lamp, plunging the room in darkness again. We shuffle past each other to get to our sides of the bed. He pushes all of the blankets off the bed and I feel the tiny movement of air as I lay back down on my pillow.

"Is it okay if I scoot a tiny bit closer to you?" Sam asks. "I won't touch you, and we don't exactly need to share body heat, but I'd like to kind of feel the fan."

"Sure," I hear myself saying. I'm still sweating a lot. He shifts so he's closer to me, then he sits up and surprises me. He pulls off his shirt.

"Wh-what are you doing?" It's not like I've never seen the man shirtless, I have, many times. I can't even see him right now, not really because of the dark, and he even slept in the bed next to me without a shirt six months ago. But everything feels different now.

I can hear his smile. "It's hot. I"ll keep my shorts on though."

"Thanks," I murmur, my body getting warmer than it was a second ago. Now, not only am I sharing a bed with my husband, he's also completely shirtless. For a half second, I wonder what would happen if I reach out and touch him. He's close enough that I easily could. But I don't. I clench my fists and keep my hands at my sides.

"Well, sleep well," he says into the darkness.

"Mhm," I murmur back, because fat chance of that happening.

The sun is bright when I open my eyes because at some point, despite being hot and hyper-aware of Sam in the bed beside me, I fell back asleep.

And then had a super detailed romantic dream about him. I blush just thinking about it.

Thankfully, he's in the shower, so I have a second to get my bearings before I see him. "It was just a dream," I tell myself, but I can't help but wonder what it would be like to have him kiss me like he was in my dream...to have him do more than kiss me.

"Nope, nope, nope," I say as I pull out my phone. Better to distract myself than let myself think dirty thoughts about my husband.

I have three new texts. The first is from my brother, confirming that he and everyone else will be getting in late tonight and that he'll see us in the morning tomorrow. The others are from Emily and Hannah.

Emily

KISS HIM! OR I DON'T KNOW, tell him how you feel! And keep me posted.

Hannah

DID YOU KISS HIM YET?!?! And send me a picture, cause like... I don't know what he looks like.

I laugh. I haven't told Hannah that she could easily look up Sam online and know exactly what he looks like, but I'm not ready for that yet. I send her a text back.

No kissing will be happening (except in my dreams apparently). We slept in the same bed last night, but nothing happened so keep your mind out of the gutter. I will not be telling him anything. I am here for my brother's wedding, not here to figure out my crap with Sam.

While I'm typing out the same message to Emily, Hannah responds.

Hannah

GO KISS THE MAN! And I want a SELFIE of the two of you. PLEASE. I'll put it on my fridge. Graham will die of joy to know that you're happy with your husband. You should tell him how you feel, even if you're there for your brother!

No selfies for you.

The shower turns off, which means in the next ten minutes I'll see Sam. The same man who was just in my dreams. The one I have to spend the entire day with. No. Hannah would tell me to reframe that, the one I get to spend the entire day with. Maybe I should just relax and enjoy the day. I can pretend that everything is the same as it was before I ran away.

Sam comes out of the bathroom, a bunch of steam following him, in nothing but a towel.

"Oh."

His head whips to mine, and I really should look away, but I can't stop staring. He's got abs for days. And that V that people talk about on men, yup, he's got that too. I've seen him shirtless and in shorts before. But that was nothing compared to this. Him in a towel? I think I"m gawking. But I've never let myself really look at him before and now I can't seem to take my eyes off of him. I force myself to look at his face, but that's even worse, because he's watching me with an amused expression.

He caught me ogling him. The last time he and I were in this situation I didn't open my eyes until he went into his room, but now I just stare at this man like he is a delicious treat I can't wait to have. What is wrong with me?

"I didn't realize you were awake," he says.

"I didn't realize you were a Greek god," I reply, my face flaming. Cursed fair skin and my inability to hide a blush. "I, uh, you must have been working out a lot?"

There is no saving me from this. This is the second time in my life that we've found ourselves in this position and I'm making it much, much worse than the first time.

He is still watching me, a smile on his face.

"Can you please put some clothes on?" I ask him before I bury my face in my hands. "Please."

He doesn"t reply, but I hear him rummage through his suitcase. I don't dare look up again until the bathroom door clicks shut.