With Love, from Cold World(52)

And then tonight, when she’d said his name. He didn’t know if she realized it, but Lauren had never called him by his name to his face. Not once. Until she’d written that note on his fridge, he’d sometimes wondered if there was a chance she didn’t even know it.

Hearing her say it, and like that, her voice all breathy and low . . . well, he couldn’t think about it too much, or he’d have to take care of himself in the bathroom after all.

It had made his blood start to boil, the way she’d rushed to worrying about his satisfaction while writing off her own. It made him wonder if that was what she’d been taught to expect from sex, if previous boyfriends had gotten what they wanted and then left her to do the rest herself. It made him want to take his time with her.

He’d thought time was one thing that they had. He wasn’t oblivious—he knew that they were in a strange bubble tonight, that whatever was building here might not survive the light of day. But he’d had this vision of getting blankets from the gift shop and hunkering down in her office, finding more ways to get to know each other. He wouldn’t have minded just snuggling together under the blankets, making a corny joke about doing it for body heat in Cold World or some shit like that.

Now, something told him she was not in the mood to cuddle. She wouldn’t even look at him when she’d left.

Still, they would need to sleep. He decided to head to the bathroom to wash up and get ready for bed, and then maybe he’d grab those blankets from the gift shop after all. He might need double if they were going to make two beds. Add them to the tab.



* * *



? ? ?

By the time Lauren came back, he’d set up two makeshift sleeping areas—one behind her desk for her, with a folded blanket for a mattress and another one on top, a larger stuffed animal from the gift shop serving as a pillow. He’d made up his own similar arrangement just inside the doorway to the office. Not that he expected any nocturnal visitor—security or otherwise—but he figured it was better for him to be the first point of contact.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said. “But I really don’t want to sleep in Dolores’ office. That would feel a little weird.”

“Oh,” she said, glancing around. “No, that’s fine. This looks really . . . Thanks for setting it up.”

“I’m also going to sleep in just my T-shirt and boxers,” he said. “If you wanted to strip down, I could give you some privacy . . . or we could get something from the gift shop.”

“I’m okay,” she said. She had a handful of silky black fabric balled up in her hand, and he realized it must be her bra. Catching his gaze on it, she flushed and crossed her arms over her chest, where her nipples had pebbled against the red fabric of her dress in the cold office.

He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck while he tried to look anywhere but at her. “I set my phone alarm for six,” he said. “I think security comes by around seven to do a morning sweep and disable the alarm, so that should give us time.”

She pulled her own phone out and tapped it a few times, cutting off the loud trill of her own alarm when it started to sound. “I set mine, too,” she said. “Just in case. We don’t want to be . . .”

She didn’t finish that sentence, but he could imagine what she was going to say. They didn’t want to be found sleeping together on the floor of her office. Even if they wouldn’t be together, per se. He didn’t particularly relish the idea of explaining all of this to their boss, either, but the dismissal in her voice still made something in his chest ache.

They both climbed into their makeshift beds, and he reached over to unplug the Christmas lights wrapped around the fake plant, leaving them with only the ambient glow from the lobby outside.

Her voice cut through the dark. “Asa?”

He closed his eyes. Eventually, he’d get used to hearing her say his name. But not yet. “Yeah?”

“Thank you for tonight,” she said in a rush, like she had to get the words out before she swallowed them back up. “Not just, you know, but . . . I really enjoyed playing the random number generator game with you.”

“Me, too.” He hesitated, wanting to address the elephant in the room, which she apparently wouldn’t even refer to directly. It would kill him if she regretted it.

But she swooped in before he could figure out what to say. “Do you think we could keep it all between us? Like What happens at Cold World stays at Cold World?”

He hadn’t exactly planned on kissing and telling. Although he probably would’ve run it by Kiki at some point—not all the details, but enough to try to find out what she might’ve heard from Lauren. But he also knew that what Lauren was really asking was whether they could leave this whole night behind in its bubble, and move forward like it had never happened.

“If that’s what you want,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said around a yawn. “God, I’m going to be wrecked tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Me, too.”

Eventually, he heard her breathing even out, and he knew she must’ve fallen asleep. It was a while before he joined her.



* * *



? ? ?

Wrecked was the understatement of the year. He’d convinced Lauren that he should stay and explain everything to the security guard, and later to Dolores, after Lauren had the chance to slip out the front door. It would be foolish—and practically impossible—to try to pretend like there hadn’t been anyone there that night. But there was no need for both of them to get in trouble, and the explanation was a lot cleaner if Asa just talked about his plan to hook up the faux snow machine and how it had gone awry.