He said, “Hal, maybe—”
“You’re overthinking this, Jack.”
Something about the way she said it and the look on her face made him pause. “What do you mean?”
She looked a little bit shy but also entirely confident as she lifted her chin and said, “I really liked kissing you at the airport, and if it happens again under the guise of fake dating, I will enjoy every minute of it. But I also think sleeping in the same bed with you sounds like an absolute blast, like a grown-up platonic sleepover. We can handle it.”
He had no idea how to respond to that tempting but terrible idea, and he could smell her perfume, which somehow made everything worse.
When they had made their travel plans, he’d imagined they would behave like roommates for the weekend. In that scenario, they would be watching TV from two separate beds on opposite sides of the room and telling jokes in the dark.
But talking in the dark in the same bed? Watching TV under the same blanket? His head felt like it was going to explode when he thought about it.
She said, “The minute we cross the security line back home, we can return to being friends who are each respectively searching for their soul mates.”
He turned his head to the side and cracked his neck again, suddenly stiff as hell. “Well, I don’t think—”
“Tell me one good reason why we can’t make this work.”
He had a very good reason, but not one he felt like sharing until they were home. He let out his breath and said, “Fine. We’ll stay in this room, but if you touch me, I swear to God I’m screaming.”
Hallie
Was it weird that she found this side of him adorable? Teasing, hilarious Jack was being uncharacteristically uptight and genuinely worried about jeopardizing their friendship.
He was sweet under all that Jack.
She really didn’t want him to be uncomfortable, though, so she asked him, “Are we good?”
He rolled his eyes and tousled her hair. “Fuck right off with the coddling, Hal. I’m fine; I’m just trying to protect this.”
“Great.” Hallie smacked his hand, stepped away from him, and straightened her hair while feeling punched in the gut by the emotions behind his words. Protect this. Something in the way he said it made her feel . . . unsettled, but it was probably the fact that she didn’t like admitting how important his friendship had become to her.
“So do you want to go do Vail or what?” he asked, sounding like a total grump.
“Let’s do it,” she said. “Care if I change first?”
“Yeah, I will, too.”
She went into the bathroom and changed into a black turtleneck sweater, jeans, and hiking boots. She rolled her clothes up into a ball to hide her underwear, the same way she did when she had to visit the gynecologist.
God forbid people knew she wore underwear.
“Listen, Jack,” she started, pulling open the bathroom door, “maybe we . . .”
The words died on her lips when she saw him standing in front of his suitcase in just his jeans—jeans that were hanging low enough that the waistband of what appeared to be boxer briefs was visible.
Dear God.
He had that jutting-hip-bone thing that she had thought only existed on the covers of cowboy romance novels.
“Yes?” he asked.
She looked up from his stomach. “What?”
He smiled a little. “You said maybe we . . . and then you trailed off.”
“Oh. Yeah.” She gave a breathy laugh and said, “God, you caught me off guard. I forgot how, um, how that you are.”
And she gestured with her free hand toward his naked torso.
“？‘That’？” he repeated, with one eyebrow raised.
“Yes, that.” She rolled her eyes and said, “You know exactly what I mean, Jack Marshall.”
He repeated, grinning, “That.”
As she opened her suitcase beside his and dropped her clothes inside, she said in an octave lower than her usual voice, “My name is Jack. I’m so hot. I’m so that.”
He started laughing.
“Please put on a shirt before I kill you,” she said, grabbing her jacket from a hanger and sliding into it.
“Because my . . . that is bothering you?”
She shook her head and narrowed her eyes into her meanest squint. “Y’know what? Don’t wear a shirt. See if I care. Go hike naked. I’ll laugh my ass off when the bears eat your that.”
“I’m pretty sure I can outrun you,” he said, still laughing as he pulled his gray Henley over his head and threaded his arms through the sleeves. “So I’m confident my that will remain intact.”