Puzzled, Rowan sat up. He examined the bed. A frown creased his brow. The only bed in the room. What happened to the twin beds?
It’s a king.
Six
Gideon
Gideon had seen this movie before. Steve Martin and John Candy sharing a bed in a hotel and waking up in a full-on man hug because they’d unconsciously sought out body warmth in the night.
Not happening.
Rowan stared down at the bed as if it was going to suddenly morph into two single queens, or maybe that a wall would sprout up in the middle. He was searching for solutions and Gideon had seen that look before when Rowan was doing the accounts and things didn’t add up. The way he frowned, the way he stared as if by sheer will alone he could solve the puzzle.
“Oh,” he finally said and scooted off the bed to stand by the side of it, arms crossed over his chest.
“I’m guessing you didn’t realize this cabin had only one bed.”
“I swear.” Rowan held up his hands in innocence. “This used to be a twin cabin, and if I’d known it was one bed I would have spoken to my moms and reorganized.” His lips twisted in a wry smile. “It will be cozy though.” Rowan smirked.
“There is absolutely no way I’m sharing a bed with you.”
“Settle down, I’ll fix this.” Rowan took out his cell phone. “Mom, small issue, this is one bed…yeah…no…he’s definitely…no, Mom.” At this point, he pushed a hand through his hair and turned his back on Gideon, lowering his voice as if no one would be able to hear him. “He’s my boss, and a friend, not even a…Mom…didn’t I tell you when I had Freddie over to sleep…yes I know you heard the banging…and Jeremy as well…but I told you…jeez…okay. Yeah, love you too.” He sounded exasperated, but by the time he turned he’d schooled his expression into what Gideon liked to call client-mode. It was what he used at the moment he was showing new clients into the office. Official, calm, cool. “So,” he began and then stopped.
“So?”
“Well, when I told my moms I was bringing a friend, and even with the backstory of you being alone on Christmas, which isn’t a story but is the whole truth because you would be alone for Christmas, and I don’t like—”
“Rowan! Focus.”
“Sorry, it’s just that they thought I was bringing a friend-friend.”
“Huh.”
He made a circle with his index finger and thumb then poked his other index finger into the hole. “Y’know, friend-friend.”
Gideon rolled his eyes. He didn’t need the graphics nor did he really want to hear about this Freddie or Jeremy that Rowan had clearly brought home and had sex with so loud his moms heard.
“So where are we sleeping?” The thought of sleeping in the same bed as Rowan and being drawn to him in sleep made him want to back the hell out of the door. Acting on inappropriate impulses that he couldn’t or wouldn’t carry through on, would ruin their relationship, could cause the company to implode, or worse, he might never see Rowan again.
“It’s okay. It unzips, hang on.” Rowan began rooting through the covers and pulled the pristine white quilt back until it hung off the end and then loosened the sheets at the corners revealing that the huge bed was actually two singles connected with a zipper which he tugged at.
“Uh oh,” he murmured.
“Uh oh, what?” Gideon said and crossed his arms over his chest.
Rowan sat back on his heels. “Locked,” he announced as if that made any difference.
“What? How do you lock a zipper?”
“I don’t know, but it won’t unzip.”
“Let me have a look.” Gideon crawled over the bed, getting caught in the bedclothes and cursing as he shook himself free. The zipper was there, the tab ready to pull, so he tugged it, expecting the teeth to open and for one bed to become two. Nothing happened. He tugged again, and then harder, but nothing shifted.
“Your thought bubble is pissed,” Rowan observed and drew a jagged shape in the air. “It’s all, oh no I’m stuck in a cabin and I don’t want to be here, and why is the zipper broken?”
Gideon ignored Rowan and his stupid thought bubbles. Getting a good hold of the tab he yanked hard, the tab snapped, and he went flying, backward, off the bed, and straight on the floor.
Momentarily dazed he looked up into Rowan’s face as he leaned over the side of the bed and grinned at Gideon.
“Are you okay?” he asked and then bit his lip as if he was holding back laughter. Asshole.
Gideon stood and brushed himself down, taking care not to look at Rowan, who was flat on his back staring up at the ceiling. There was something about seeing Rowan laying there, a position he’d never seen his PA in before, that unsettled Gideon. Not that he hadn’t imagined Rowan flat on his back in a bed, but that had been the first week he’d arrived at Bryant & Waites before he’d proven to be the best thing to happen to the company. Now Gideon made sure not to think about Rowan naked and waiting for him and in that way he kept himself in check.
“It’s not going to unzip,” Rowan said helpfully, and Gideon held himself back from snapping something sarcastic and on point. He was riled and didn’t like looking stupid at any time, least of all in front of Rowan, who never messed up. “So who gets the chair?”
“I’ll sleep in the goddamn chair,” Gideon announced, opened his case, pulled out his travel bag, and then locked himself in the bathroom. If he left it long enough, then he had hope that Rowan would have remade the bed and gone to sleep. Was ten minutes enough? Should he shave or have a shower so it wasn’t awkward that he was stuck in the bathroom for all this time? Fuck’s sake, I’m a grown man, what the hell am I doing?
He brushed his teeth then realized he hadn’t brought in the soft shorts he wore to bed. Hell, that was going to have to change because he’d have to add a T-shirt to that particular ensemble. It wasn’t so much that he thought he would drive Rowan wild at the sight of his bare chest or be overcome at his soft belly but what if there was some accidental brushing as they passed each other and any part of Rowan touched any part of him.
Fuse lit. Bam.
Over.
Cautiously he opened the bathroom door. The bed was remade, and the covers were turned back on one side, but there was no sign of Rowan. It was only when he was fully inside that he spotted him curled up in the armchair in the corner, a blanket pulled up around his ears and two soft pillows behind his head.
“Please take the bed,” Gideon said sounding more tired than he’d tried for.
“I’m okay in the chair.”
“You can’t sleep in the chair. Go back up to your moms’ house.”
“And walk in on whatever they’re up to? I’m already scarred enough. You’d think at their age—”
“Take. The. Bed.”
Rowan snuggled deeper, and his toes poked out from the blanket. “No, because it’s a perfectly comfortable chair.” This was clearly a lie as Rowan winced and shifted again.
“It doesn’t look like it’s the best place to sleep.”