As she shut the door, he flicked off the lamp then peeled back the covers on the bed and crawled underneath. The room may be crap but at least they had cable. It took a few minutes of searching through local channels, but he finally settled on a station with men’s basketball highlights playing across the screen.
The faucet in the bathroom turned on and off. A vibrating noise came through the thin wall. What the hell was she doing to herself in there? Ms. Everything’s Under Control didn’t look like the type to run a self-stimulating pleasure device through security in her purse. But she was really going at it. Something thumped against the counter and the noise continued.
The sounds coming from the bathroom kind of turned him on. A beep sounded, then she spit into the sink and flushed some water down the drain. Ah, a toothbrush. Damn, he needed to get laid if listening to Reagan brush her teeth gave him a semi-hard-on.
He punched the pillow with his fist then plumped it up again and rolled to face the window before tucking it under his head. The last thing he needed now was to catch a glimpse of her in his T-shirt. That would really solidify things below his waistband.
The bathroom door squeaked open.
“Zach?”
“Yeah?”
“Are your eyes closed?”
“Sure.”
“Zach!”
“What?”
“Close your eyes.”
What was with the modesty? He’d made it clear he spent quite a bit of time around half-naked women for his work. But somehow the thought of being next to a half-naked Reagan hit him a little lower. No need to dwell on it and give himself an incurable case of blue balls. “Fine, they’re closed.”
Quick footsteps sounded on the carpet and then she scrambled onto the bed and slid between the sheets, her bare legs brushing against his. Nothing semi going on in his boxers now.
“Oh, my God!” Reagan jumped out of the bed almost as fast as she’d jumped in.
He rolled over to face her. “What the hell is your problem?” The light from the TV bathed her body in an eerie glow. The T-shirt barely hit the top of her thighs, not quite covering up a pair of pink polka dot panties. Her hands wrapped around her middle and she leaned forward, trying to stretch the hem of the shirt over her crotch. As she did, the V-neck dipped down, enough for him to make out the outline of her breasts. His disloyal dick shot to full mast.
“You’re supposed to be on top of the covers. I can’t sleep under the covers with you.”
He propped himself up on one elbow, making sure to not let the comforter tent at his shorts. “What are you, the Virgin Mary? We’re two adults. Surely you’ll be able to hold back.” Although, with a hint of encouragement, he’d be willing to unleash his growing need. Before he let that scenario scamper through his head her eyes went wide and she took a giant step back.
“How dare you!”
“How dare I what?” That’s right. How could he forget? Despite Reagan Campbell showing up looking all sexy as sin, she was wound tighter than the inside of a major league baseball. He’d given her the benefit of the doubt up until now. Thought maybe she’d changed. Thought a few life lessons might have taught her how to relax and take things easy. Thought she’d become a little more Rachel Green and a lot less Monica Geller. But no. Despite the abandon she’d shown all those years ago when it had been the two of them against the world, she’d become what he’d feared… as uptight and controlling as her dad.
“Where do I start? How dare you assume I want to jump into bed with you the first chance you get me alone?”
“Wait. The first chance I get you alone? You think that’s what this has been about? I found out you’d be flying out of O’Hare today, so I booked a flight? Then I traded a guy my seat and let you puncture my thigh on takeoff and landing so I’d maybe have a shot of sharing a crappy bed in a shitty hotel with you tonight?” He punched the pillow again and rolled back to face the window. “Get over yourself, cupcake.”
“I think you’re the one who needs to get over himself.”
“And why’s that?”
She sat down on the edge of the bed. “What happened to us, Zach? The last time I talked to you…I still don’t understand why—”
“Goodnight, Reagan.” He couldn’t let her go there. Because if she did, he’d follow her on that trip down memory lane and they’d end up doing something they’d both regret. There’d barely been a place for him in her past; he didn’t have a spot reserved in her future.
She sighed, her breath shaky then stood and pulled the sheet all the way up. Followed by the blanket. The mattress shifted as she climbed underneath the comforter and gently laid her head down on the pillow. “Goodnight, Zach.”
He pressed the “off” button on the remote, plunging the room into darkness. Although two layers of bedding now separated their bare skin from touching, she may as well have been laying butt naked underneath him. The coconut-vanilla scent of her shampoo drifted from her pillow to his nose. The weight of her body on the mattress next to him stirred him to an uncomfortable, erect awareness. Just a job. Get her to Florida and then get the hell away from Reagan Campbell, pink polka dot panties and all.
6
A soft light filtered through a slit in the utility-grade vinyl curtain and slanted against her eyelids. Reagan cracked her eyes open. The hotel room looked even more sordid in the dim light of day.
Zach’s hair spread over his pillow and tangled with hers. The streaming sunlight on his scruffy cheek made his whiskers glisten in shades of gold and red. He must have kicked the sheet and blanket off during the night and he lay sprawled out in nothing but his underwear. Her gaze trailed down his chin, past the smattering of hair on his chest. Lower to those ribbed abs. Lower still to the dark path that disappeared into the waistband of his boxers.
She took in a deep breath as she considered the man next to her. She’d always had a thing for Zach. His laid back, what-you-see-is-what-you-get attitude had always been a stark contrast to her need to maintain a tight control on every aspect of her life. She envied him his ability to take things as they came and not have to constantly be on guard.
Tucking her hands under her cheek, she watched the easy rise and fall of his chest. How long had it been since she’d shared a bed with a man? Always too suspicious of what people might want from her, she rarely let anyone get close enough to get intimate.
Her dad constantly reminded her to watch her back. That one misstep could blow his entire career to pieces. It had taken her years to stand up to her parents and tell them she was going to have her own career. Her mother couldn’t understand why Reagan wasn’t happy helping with charity events and fundraisers. But Reagan wanted more out of life than playing the part of a well-groomed accessory like her mother embraced. With independence came great responsibility and she’d grown up feeling like an extension of her mom and dad, always terrified of disappointing them both.
The one time she’d thrown caution to the wind, her carelessness blew up in her face and she’d somehow lost her tenuous hold on Zach. Her dad would completely freak if he knew his daughter was waking up in a seedy hotel room next to a blast from her past; especially if that blast turned out to be Zach Anderson.