Maid for Each Other(65)

I was surprised when she went on her tiptoes, set her hands on my cheeks, and said, “That was going to be my prize if I won, too.”

She pulled my head down to hers, and that was it. I guided her body against the car and devoured her mouth, exploring every corner while slowly dying every time I felt the flex of her fingers or the catch of her breath. It was hot and wild, frantic and hungry, the kind of kiss that would be accompanied by falling clothing if we were anywhere but a hotel parking lot.

I couldn’t process time or anything else around us; every one of my senses homed in on the feel of her body against mine. It wasn’t until I felt her pull away that my consciousness returned.

“So,” she said, blinking up at me like she’d been lost, too. “Do you feel like a winner?”

I knew I was hiding nothing when a dipshit smile took over my face and I said around a laugh, “Hell fucking yes. Let’s go check in.”

31

One Bed

Abi

So it had finally happened to me in real life.

I stood there in the doorway as Declan carried our bags into the hotel room—the hotel room with only one bed.

Elaine had booked all the rooms for the birthday party, and being a progressive sort of mother, she must’ve assumed that Declan and I would be staying in the same room.

Which made sense, of course.

But I didn’t know what he was thinking at that moment, and I also didn’t know how to bring it up. As much as I’d been sometimes honest with him about things and we’d handled everything so far together, I didn’t know how to navigate this.

Because when I’d stayed at both of his apartments, there was a spare room. I was able to stay with him without muddying the waters.

But as I looked at the king-size bed in the middle of the room, I didn’t know what he expected. Had he known his mom was reserving one room? Was he just as surprised as I was?

I walked farther into the room and sat down on the bench at the bottom of the bed.

Of course it was a big, gorgeous room; this was the Powell family. The room was huge, with a massive desk and beautiful windows and a stunning balcony.

Everything looked pristine and the art on the wall didn’t look like it’d come from some airport sale, which added to my stress and unease.

“So what time does the party start?” I asked, needing to break the silence. “Is it in a party room downstairs or something?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” he said, but he looked distracted, like I’d interrupted his thoughts. He scratched his eyebrow like he was trying to catch up to the conversation and said, “It’s at the bowling alley.”

“What? Did you say bowling alley?” That was enough of a shock to break me out of my what the hell am I going to do about this sleeping situation? reverie.

“My mother rented out an entire bowling alley because my dad has always loved to bowl.”

“Okay for starters, how would your dad have even ever bowled? I can’t imagine Nana Marian taking him. Has he lived a life where bowling alleys existed?”

Dex gave me a half grin. “My mom grew up living a life a little less flashy than my father’s. Her parents definitely weren’t poor, but she went to a public high school. A very nice public high school, don’t get me wrong, but she did cross paths with a bowling ball, so when my father asked her out and she was intimidated by him, she said she wanted to go on a bowling date. Y’know, to kind of level the playing field and have the home-court advantage.”

“Sports analogies,” I muttered.

“Yeah, but just keep with me.”

“Fine.”

“After that, my father fell in love with bowling. Not just because it was what his dream girl took him to do on their first date, but because he was naturally good at it. And he also loved the vibe. He loves the noise at the bowling alley, the fried food, the community shoes—everything about it. He forces my mother to take him bowling a few times a year, swear to God.”

“This is hilarious,” I said, unable to imagine Charles and Elaine tossing gutter balls.

“So when she found out they have this brand-new, really nice bowling alley in Kansas City, she decided to rent the whole place for a day so we could all celebrate his birthday.”

“Well, this is absolutely unexpected,” I said. “I filled my suitcase with fancy outfits Edward has zipped me into, but now I feel like they’re all too nice for bowling.”

“Sorry, I should have told you,” Declan said sheepishly.

“No, I just assumed it would be something fancy, so I didn’t think to ask.”

I was genuinely excited to go bowling. For the first time since I’d met Declan, I felt like I would be somewhere that didn’t feel foreign and out of my element.

“I brought jeans,” I said, “but I wish I’d grabbed a sweatshirt or something. All I have are silk blouses and blazers.”

“I have a sweatshirt,” he said, gesturing toward his bag. “It’s just an old Harvard sweatshirt that I’ve had for a million years and will be huge on you, but it’s yours if you want it.”

“You’ve acted so normal the past few times I’ve been around you that I forgot you went to Harvard.”

“I could’ve bought the Harvard sweatshirt at Walmart, for all you know,” he said, sounding defensive.