Page 73 of Not Safe for Work

Andy clenches his jaw.

“Sure,” he replies after a moment.

Maybe a former Trishara would feel bad about how I’ve acted tonight. I should never have agreed to this. I used him to get someone else out of my system, which was a dick move, but it turns out he’s also kind of a dick himself, and I’m already moving away.

“Good night,” I say, trying to sound brighter than I feel, relieved when he doesn’t try to follow.

Before I go upstairs, I detour to the front desk, intending to ask about another room. Thankfully, the reception area is now blessedly free of Hawaiian-shirt-clad families.

However, my old friend Kalena is there, and her smile falters as I approach.

“Hi, me again.” I give her a little wave. “Just wondering if any rooms have opened up yet?”

“I’m sorry, but the room we had is gone now.”

“What room?”

A furrow creases her brow. “I called up and spoke with Mr. Gallagher earlier. He said you’d no longer be needing a second room, so I gave it away. I apologize if I misunderstood. I can certainly let you know if anything else comes free, but we’ve just filled right back up again.”

My mouth opens as I freeze.

“We’re hosting a lot of conferences and weddings,” she adds, clearly prepared for me to make another scene.

“He did what?” I ask.

Kalena blinks. “He said you were fine and wouldn’t need a second room. Again, I’m sorry.”

I shake my head. “No… that’s okay…” Now I’m completely puzzled. “This afternoon? Today?”

“Yes,” she says, looking around as if she thinks she’s about to get in trouble. “He seemed quite certain.”

This afternoon. After he told me that we shouldn’t have kissed. After we’d just spent the day avoiding each other. After he moved back to the cramped couch. After he was on the phone with Hannah.

“Thanks,” I say quietly.

I turn away and head for the elevators, more confused than ever.

Chapter Twenty

I spend the entirety of the next two days scrutinizing Rafe from across the room, wondering what’s going on in his head. I wish I could crack it open and read what’s written inside.

Why did he refuse the second room? What’s his game? I try not to think about it while simultaneously thinking of nothing else.

After we’re done with our classes on Thursday, I head to the gym for a workout, setting myself up in the weight area. Nothing gets out my stress and anxiety like lifting a lot of heavy things. I haven’t been as dedicated as I am at home, but in my defense, there has been a lot going on.

Of course, I’m a few minutes in, my earphones blasting, when Rafe shows up and sets up next to me. I pull out an earbud, the metallic sounds of music audible above the hotel’s choice of generic motivational music. He looks at it and then at me, and I think we’re both remembering Molly shouting at him through the phone.

“You’ll damage your eardrums playing your music that loud,” Rafe says as he lies down on the bench and begins pressing an enormous set of dumbbells. I choke out a laugh.

“Oh, thanks for the tip, Dr. Gallagher.”

He gives me a sort of half grin–half grimace as he works. I become momentarily rooted to the spot as his triceps bunch and his chest heaves as he completes each rep. When he’s done his set, he drops the weights and sits up, peering at me.

“Tris.” I jump and meet his gaze as he drags a finger down the corner of his mouth. “You’ve got drool there.”

My nostrils flare, and I resist the urge to check because, honestly, it might be true.

“Shut up,” I say and wince. I hear him chuckle as I turn away and replace my earbud. We spend the next hour dancing in each other’s spaces.