He’d had two options.
Burn off some energy at the gym. Or go knock on Josephine’s door and demand to know again if things were going to be weird between them now that they’d hooked up. Although “hooked up” sounded incredibly insufficient, considering he’d forgotten his room number, date of birth, and the current sitting president afterward. Waiting until a socially acceptable hour to make sure their relationship hadn’t been compromised was making him restless.
He wanted to get it straightened out before their round got underway in the morning and they wouldn’t have a chance to speak off camera until late afternoon.
Without some reassurance, his concentration would be fucked.
To be fair, it was going to be capital-F Fucked no matter what, because of Josephine raking her fingernails down his chest and challenging him to finish under par, so he could come inside her.
Wells groaned out loud, splintering the silence of the fitness center.
Yeah, safe to say their dynamic had changed a lot since yesterday—
And that scared the living shit out of him. If anything, he’d assumed he’d screw up on the golf course and send her packing. This? Was an entirely different ball game. He didn’t have, didn’t do, didn’t understand relationships.
At all.
Way to dive right into the deep end with your caddie, man.
For the first time in his entire life, Wells kind of wished he could run this whole situation by another dude. He could try and call Burgess, but as far as Wells could tell, the ill-tempered hockey player was more emotionally stunted than Wells. Also, Burgess would almost certainly hang up on him, so yeah. No calls would be made today.
Buck was out, in terms of fatherly advice.
His own parents were God only knew where. Somewhere in Florida, last he’d heard.
Surprisingly, Josephine’s father came to mind. If only Wells didn’t need advice about the man’s actual daughter, that might be an option.
Guess he’d have to figure this out as it came. Going it alone was nothing new for him.
He’d just never been in a romantic dilemma before.
And nothing had ever seemed to count this much.
This woman . . . she counted. Big-time. His gut wasn’t in fucking knots over nothing.
Wells paced across the hardwood floor in the direction of the water cooler, but he drew up short when something outside the glass double-doored entrance moved, out of the corner of his eye. The resort pool was right outside the gym, glowing like a green jewel in the darkness, and a silhouette he knew very well stood peering through the gate.
Josephine?
He walked straight into the glass door.
The smack of his knee and forehead colliding with the glass, followed by a loud reverberation, made Josephine whip around, startled, then finally deflate with relief when she saw him. “Did you just walk into the door?” came her muffled question from outside.
“No. I knocked on it.” Hastily, he exited, letting the door swing shut behind him, cutting off an elevator-music version of “Old Town Road.” “To get your attention.”
A twinkle danced in her eye. “Right . . .”
Just like he hadn’t put his hoodie on backward after they’d nearly gotten busy on the couch. His entire equilibrium was off, thanks to her. Even his depth perception felt skewed as he approached her in the early morning fog. “I really wish you wouldn’t go out alone at odd hours like this, belle.”
She gave him a once-over, taking in his gym shorts and sweaty T-shirt. “You’re out at odd hours.”
“Yes, but I’m big and mean. You’re short and sweet.” Ignoring her pursed lips, he eyed the emerald pool lying beyond her shoulder. “Were you planning on going for a swim?”
“I didn’t bring a bathing suit with me, so I was just going to stick my feet in.” She reached out and rattled the gate leading into the pool area. “It’s closed. I had a hunch it would be, but I figured I’d take the walk, anyway.”
“Mmmm.” Wells slipped the room key out of his pocket and approached the locked gate, taking a moment to study the mechanism. He lifted the handle slightly, then slid his card down between the slot and the metal tab, popping it open. “ ‘Closed’ is a subjective term.”
Josephine blinked. “Hotel security might feel differently.”
“At this time of the morning, it’s one guy in a golf cart and he’s probably sleeping.” He tucked his tongue into the inside of his cheek. “Do you want to get wet or not?”
“Wow.” She pushed his shoulder. “Real nice.”