4. Leila

LEILA

Afuzzy voice enters my consciousness, speaking words that don't make any sense.

"Folks, we'll be blending in about twenty kittens. Please fashion your meat melts."

I continue to wake up, yawning as I come out of my nap. The pillow I'm leaning against is so nice—harder than I'm used to, but comforting and warm. I wish I didn't have to wake up. But I open my eyes and let out a yawn.

The pillow against my cheek pulls away, and I blink in confusion. Oh. Okay. It wasn't a pillow at all. It was Nolan's shoulder.

"Sorry," I say, giving him a sheepish smile as I straighten up. "I didn't mean to fall asleep on you."

"It's fine," he says, but he doesn't look at me. In fact, his whole body is stiff. Damn it. I hope that's not a sign. Is he uncomfortable with me? Is he mad that I waited for so long to say something to him? I wish I knew what was going on in his head.

While Nolan is looking straight ahead, I sneak another glance at him. God, he's big. I knew he was a big guy, but up close, his size is truly striking. He can barely fit into the seat. His knees are pushed up against the seat in front of him, and his muscular thighs extend past either side of his seat. My own thighs are millimeters away from touching his.

His arms are so massive, too. As my eyes trail over his thick, toned forearms, I'm helpless to the desire that pulses through me. I wonder what it would feel like to be wrapped in his arms. Or to be carried by him. Or to be thrown onto a bed by him.

Is he an intense lover? A rough one? Greedy? Generous?

I'm dying to know.

But I know there's a good chance I'll never find out. In the past several hours, he's given me no indication that he likes me like that. I thought he did, because of all those gifts he's sent me over the years, but now I think I might have read too much into them.

Maybe he really was just doing his job the whole time.

After we land in Geneva, we're caught up in the bustle of disembarking the plane and collecting our luggage at baggage claim. From the airport, we take a shuttle to Les Houches, where the Tour du Mont Blanc begins. But we won't be doing any hiking tonight. My plan is for us to set off first thing tomorrow morning.

"I have a room reserved at that hotel," I say, pointing at a rustic building up the street from where the shuttle just dropped us off. It's a darling building with flower boxes hanging from the windows.

Nolan nods as he adjusts the straps of his hiking backpack. "Okay. I'll get a room there, too."

But we soon find out from the woman at the front desk that they're fully booked. My heart drops, but then a ridiculous thought pops into my head: Nolan could stay with me in my room. Do I dare suggest it?

"No problem," Nolan says to the woman at the front desk. "I'll find somewhere else to stay."

"My apologies, sir," she says.

"No, it's fine." He turns to me. "What time should I meet you in the morning?"

Don't be disappointed that he's staying in another hotel. He'll still be close by.

"Eight a.m.? Does that work for you?" I ask.

He nods. "All right. I'll see you then."

As he walks out of the hotel, it feels like he's taking a little piece of my heart with him. Which is a ridiculous way to feel, I know. But I thought we'd spend our first evening together, getting to know each other for real. I thought we'd go out to eat, have a relaxed and possibly romantic meal together, talking for hours until it was time for bed. I even envisioned Nolan walking me to my room, and maybe even giving me a sweet kiss goodnight…

Oh, well. I guess it's called a fantasy for a reason.

I force myself to smile at the woman behind the desk as she hands over my room key. From there, I go straight to the room. It's beautifully rustic, with wooden beams running across the ceiling and plush bedding, but I can't fully appreciate it right now. I drop my backpack and flop onto the bed, letting out a long sigh.