Chapter 9

The first thing I'm aware of when I wake up later is the throbbing headache. Before I even open my eyes, I can feel my brain pounding. I'm not sure where I am, but I know I'm not at home. The mattress I'm lying on is much too firm. And the arms around me?—

Oh, no.

I was on the plane with Noah. It got rerouted, then canceled, and we were sent to a hotel.

He and I had to share a room.

Oh, God, no.

I don't want to open my eyes. I can't stand to see the evidence of the absolute crime I have committed. But the longer I lay with my eyes closed, the more the memories start to flood back. I can picture Noah's eyes, hungrily searching mine as he pins me up against the wall. I can picture myself pleading, him picking me up and tossing me down on the bed…

Oh my God.

I can't take it anymore. I open my eyes and wince as the entirely too bright sunlight hits me. Deep down, I'd been hoping that maybe the whole thing had just been a very, very bad dream. But sure enough, there is an arm wrapped around my waist, marked with tattoos that are unmistakably Noah's. I can hear his soft breathing and feel the heat of his bare skin against my back. I can smell his cologne on the pillows. I lean into it, the scent comforting me before I reel back.

No. I don't like it and I don"t like him. This was a mistake.

I'm frozen in place. I don't know what to do. I'm certain that I can't face him now. Hell, I can't face him ever. The thought of him touching me like that, of his body so close to mine, it's confusing and scary. I know I came onto him. I know he was going to leave, and I pulled him right back in. I made my bed and now I have to sleep in it. I just wish he didn't have to sleep in it too because he really is so close.

I carefully slide out of his grasp and pull on my discarded clothes, making sure he's still asleep before I leave the bedroom. Last minute deciding to snatch the keycard from the side on my way out in case I've forgotten anything, I grab my bags and lug them into the lounge, where I hurriedly and haphazardly pack everything up. I'm sure I've forgotten something, but I can't bring myself to care. I have to get away from here. Away from him. There's no time to waste. He could wake up at any moment and catch me. He might even want to talk, which absolutely cannot happen because it would only lead to one of two things—awkwardness or arguments, both of which are not at all pleasant.I don't even consider a third option where it might be pleasant, nope, not possible.

It's for the best that I get to the airport as soon as possible and see if I can change seats so I'm not stuck next to him again. I can't imagine anything more uncomfortable.

I've made it to the elevator when I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. I pull it out to check it, and my heart sinks. It's a message from the airline; we won't be able to fly out now until tomorrow morning.

I curse my rotten luck as I try to figure out a game plan. Noah and I are stuck together for the next twenty-four hours. I know that for sure. That means my only options are trying to avoid him or playing nice. Both seem daunting, but playing nice seems a bit easier than trying to avoid him in the relatively small hotel room. Not even I have the skills to pull that off.

I admit defeat and breathe a loud sigh of dread as I turn around and retreat to the room where I know my karmic fate is waiting for me. I count my lucky stars that Noah is still asleep when I drop off my bags in the lounge. I decide that the best thing for me to do now is go downstairs and get something greasy to eat. At the very least, I have to get rid of this migraine. Noah is a headache enough on his own. Gosh, how I wish I could just be at home right now snuggled up on the couch with Leo purring on me and Sasha roaming around nearby. A hangover with no cats to cuddle is way, way less fun.

Making my way to the lobby I pick out a nice window seat to relax and sip on a mildly hot cup of coffee. It's not very good, but it does the trick.

I mindlessly scroll through my phone, but nothing is really of interest to me. I'm painfully aware that I'm just stalling and staying away from Noah for as long as possible, but I can't help it. I'm not ready to see him yet. I wouldn"t know what to say. I would make a fool of myself.

My father was a Noah Laurier in his own right as a young man. He was charming and goofy with a boyish smile that could capture the heart of any girl in town. He was the man who "never heard the word no".

Which, I know. Gross.

He was a football player in college when he met my mom, who just so happened to be attending the playoff game that he "single-handedly won," in his words. She was wowed and, within the year, they were married. Of course, he kept things fun for a while. That is, until she got pregnant with me, and then she didn't need a cute boy anymore. She needed a grown man to help her, but he was nowhere to be seen because he was off behaving like a child, picking up pretty, young cheerleaders and crashing college parties.

To this day, my father is more of a child than an adult, and I don't think that will ever change.

How's things with Mr arch nemesis?

The text from Nora comes in as I'm sitting down with my second plate of waffles. I don't want to admit what I've done, but I know if anyone can help, it's Nora.

We slept together last night

Pls help

My phone nearly buzzes right out of my hand with the long string of messages that come through all at once.

WHAT?!!?!?!?!

Oh my GOD Lucy you were unsupervised for like eight hours and you do this???

How was it?

Are you into him??

Do you have any pics of him? (no nudes tho pls!)

Or if nudes are the only option then, maybe – but put an emoji over his peen.

I can feel my headache coming back with a vengeance. Why do I do this to myself?

We were drunk and it will not happen again

Trust me

Neither of us see each other like that

It was a mistake

A GIANT mistake

Nora replies right away.

A mistake or a happy accident?

Remember darling drunk actions are sober thoughts

Or something like that, I don't know

But the point is that you're clearly into him at least a little

I scoff.

No way

He's not my type, he's jockish

I feel like I'm in eighth grade again, denying to my friends that I think Mikey from science class is cute, only to be rewarded by a chorus of "Lucy and Mikey, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G."

Oh yeah?

What are you doing right now little miss sleeps with people she's not into

I bet you're still spooning with tall dark and handsome

Worse. I'm hiding from him.

I'm eating breakfast Nora

And I was just getting ready to go break the news to Noah that we're stranded in North Carolina for another day

Which is what you do when you're sharing a room with a PLATONIC temporary companion

I stand up and throw my trash away. I'm about to tuck my phone into my pocket when I receive two more messages from Nora.

You better take him some food too

Making sweet sweet love will sure make you hungry

I bite back a grin shoving my phone into my pocket, starting toward the elevators with every intention of going straight back to the room. But then Nora's stupid words replay in my head, and I begin to think that the decent thing to do would be to take Noah a coffee, or maybe a bagel or something. He's probably as hungover as I am, and it would just be cruel to make him come all the way downstairs when I'm already right here.

I decide to grab a few things to take back to the room before heading up.Not because of any plans to make any sweet sweet love to Noah. Any more sweet sweet love, my brain auto-corrects me.