Chapter 3
JILL
A gentle hand jostling my shoulder wakes me.
I crack my eyes open and blink a few times to clear the heaviness of sleep from them.
The cool sensation on the corner of my lips has me snapping a hand up and rubbing away the drool that’s gathered there.
My cheeks heat as I twist from where I’ve curled up against the centre console to where Grayson’s standing, looking down at me from the open door.
“We’re here,” he murmurs, keeping his hand in place.
I cough to clear my throat and nod, inwardly cringing. “Shit, I’m sorry. I’m not really a napper unless I’m in the car, apparently. You didn’t have issues finding the hotel?”
“No. It’s hard to get lost here. I’ve already got our bags inside, but they wouldn’t let me check in since the room isn’t under my name.”
“Right,” I mutter before unplugging my phone. “Let’s get to it, then. I’m sure my mother’s pacing in one of the hallways already, so we’ll need to be sneaky.”
Grayson chuckles and offers me the hand that was on my shoulder. I take it, and he helps me out of the car before shutting the door behind me.
“It wouldn’t be the worst thing to meet her right off the bat.”
“No, don’t even speak that into existence. I need some time to wake up first,” I grumble.
The hotel before us isn’t anything overtly special, but it’s cute.
The wedding isn’t taking place here; that would just be the rehearsal dinner.
My sister chose a chunk of land out by the mountains for the main event.
From the photos I was sent on the drive here, they’ve got quite the setup going already.
“Afraid I’m not ready for her questioning?”
“Quite the opposite. I’m positive you’d nail it, but I’d stumble over my words and ruin everything already. Just trust me, it’s best if we don’t have to see her until dinner.”
He nods in acceptance and touches my lower back, guiding me forward. My breath hitches at the warmth that explodes beneath my sweater, but I hide it with a completely unnecessary yawn. Keeping my eyes forward, I let myself relax against his palm and walk through the hotel doors.
Our two bags are tucked beside the check-in desk. Grayson drops his hand only once we’re close enough that he can grab them. I turn my focus to the woman at the desk and flash her a smile.
“Hi! I’m checking in. The name should be under Jill Clarkson.”
The woman doesn’t look much older than I am, and as she returns my smile and starts clicking away on her keyboard, I don’t miss the subtle dart of her eyes. Grayson’s setting my bag on the counter and unzipping the front pocket at the same time her cheeks flare a deep red.
“Can I see your ID?” she asks almost nervously.
I assume it’s the man standing beside me who’s making her nervous. Which isn’t surprising in the slightest. He’s huge, and there’s no denying how good-looking he is. I don’t know one person alive who wouldn’t be attracted to him, even if the clean-cut thing isn’t your type.
I narrow my eyes on her just enough to have me questioning myself. “Yes, of course.”
Reaching for the pocket he’s busied himself unzipping, my fingers are immediately wrapped in warmth. He’s curled his around them, squeezing my hand. The smooth surface of my ID replaces his skin as he hands it over and shifts closer, our sides brushing.
My pulse thumps in my ears as I glance up at him and wordlessly hand the card to the receptionist. There’s a subtle glimmer in his eyes as he meets my gaze, a muscle in his cheek twitching.
I swallow past the sudden thickness in my throat and give him a soft, appreciative smile before facing forward again.
My face has got to be as red as this woman’s still is, and that seems to bother me more than it did a few moments ago.
“You’re booked in for two nights, and the room has already been paid for. Is the card on file a good one to charge for incidentals?”
“Oh, yes.”
She tips her chin and slides my ID across the desk for me. Grayson steals it before I can make a move to and tucks it back into my bag. I roll my lips and let him zip the pocket.
“You’ll be in room 303. The Wi-Fi password is right here on the card, and breakfast is from six till ten. If you need anything, just give us a call down here,” the woman says, staring at Grayson a bit too long when she finishes her spiel. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
I bristle. “Nope. We’ll be just fine, thanks. Isn’t that right, sweetie?”
“As long as I have you, I’m good,” Grayson drawls gently, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.
My skin pebbles with goosebumps. I reach forward and snag the cards from the woman before he can. My smile is saccharine as I touch his arm and lean a bit closer than I should, feeling the hard press of his bicep beneath my fingertips.
“See? We’re perfect.”
The woman blinks once but then smiles, albeit forcefully. “Great. Enjoy your stay.”
“We will,” Grayson says.
I almost smack him for speaking to her this time. If he didn’t reach for both of our bags, I may have. And that’s fucking insane behaviour.
It’s not a huge lobby, which means the elevators aren’t too far away. We pass the windows looking into the pool, and the dining room where breakfast is held. Once we reach the elevators, I jab a finger a bit too hard against the Up arrow.
“You didn’t mention how welcoming the staff was when you got me from the car,” I tell him, trying to play off the twinge of something hot and prickly in my voice.
He settles beside me with our bags still in his hands and hums low in his throat. The numbers change on the little screen above the elevator, counting down from five.
“Maybe I need you to teach me the rules of being a fake boyfriend, Jill.”
I turn my head and glare at him. “Shh! My mom could be lurking in the shadows.”
“Right—the rules of being your boyfriend, then. Should I have thrown my bag at her face instead of answering her questions?”
“Obviously,” I snip.
He shifts, but I keep my eyes trained on the elevator doors.
There’s a ding before they start to part.
That warm pressure against my back appears again.
I’m not as surprised this time around. I step into the elevator, and he follows, standing directly in front of me instead of beside.
His towering form blocks the elevator doors as they close. I swallow before meeting his stare.
“I never took you for a jealous partner.”
My snort is instant as I reach around him to press the button for the third floor. “That was not me being jealous.”
“Wasn’t it? I haven’t been in a relationship for a while, but I do remember what that particular emotion looks like.”
Leaning against the wall, I tilt my head at him. “Alright. Maybe that’s just the part I was playing, then.”
“Well, it was very believable.”
“Good.”
“Is that a role I can play as well?”
“What, the jealous boyfriend?”
He dips his chin and takes one step toward me. The elevator’s not all that big, and with him here, it may as well be a closet. I crane my neck back until my head hits the wall. Why is my heart beating so fast? And why do I want him to come even closer?
“If that’s what you want to do, then I don’t see why that would be a problem,” I say, voice low. “If there’s a reason for it, at least.”
“With your ex in attendance, I assume there will be.”
The elevator dings when we reach the third floor, but neither of us makes any effort to step out.
There’s some sort of bubble around us right now.
It’s hot and sticky, yet inviting in a way that has me dreading when it’ll pop.
Grayson’s eyes are demanding as they sear into mine, but he keeps silent, not explaining why he’s looking at me the way he is.
It has to be for the same reason that I can’t get myself to move.
Another ding cuts through the space before the heavy metal doors start to slide shut. Grayson presses his lips together before tearing his eyes away and jamming an arm between the doors. They begin to part for us again, and I follow him quickly when he steps into the hallway.
I pull myself together and stare at the card holder in my hand. The room number written on it has me searching for the sign on the wall with directions on where to go.
“We’re down that way.” I point to the right side of the hallway.
“Got it.”
Tapping a nail to the back of the room key, I do my best to ignore how awkward it suddenly is. We’re friends. Grayson is my friend, and that’s all. I repeat the same statements over and over until we reach our room.
He stands close while I tap the card to the sensor on the door and watch as it flashes green. I push down on the handle and open the door, making my way inside first. Grayson flicks the lights on, and after a whole four steps, I come to an abrupt stop.
There’s only one bed.
Shit.
“Uh . . . I should have asked how many beds there were when we were checking in. I’m so sorry!” I ramble, swiping a hand over my frizzy, post-car-nap hair.
Grayson smooths a hand up the entire length of my back and through the mess of my hair, giving my nape a steadying squeeze.
I suck in a breath and rock back on my heels, settling into the surprising hold.
He makes no move to release me. Even when his voice drifts through the room and the door clicks shut, he keeps his hand right where it is.
“It’s fine. I assumed there would only be one bed, considering your mother booked the room for you and your boyfriend. There’s a couch I can sleep on.”
I scrunch my brows. “You’re not sleeping on the couch.”
“I’m not going to overstep your boundaries here. No one is going to sneak into our room to see if we’re sleeping together or apart, Jill.”
“That’s not—” I cut myself off, twisting the front of my skirt in my fingers. “You’re doing me a huge favour being here. I’m not going to repay you by making you sleep on a couch that you won’t fit on.”
He twists, fixing me beneath an amused stare. “I can scrunch.”
“Right. You’re what, six foot four?”
“Nearly. A bit over six three.”
“See? There’s no scrunching that’s going to make you fit on that thing. Just sleep in the bed with me, Gray.”
He keeps me trapped beneath the weight of those green eyes before nodding and lifting them.
The bags he’s hauled in with him fall to the dresser before he goes to the bed and starts pulling back the sheets.
He bears the corner of the mattress and stares at it for a moment before tucking everything back in place.
“There aren’t any bed bugs,” he tells me, noticing that I’m just standing here watching him.
“Damn. If there were, maybe we could have used them as an excuse to get a different room.”
His lips quirk as he moves our bags to the bed and lingers beside it.
I finally leave my spot by the door and move further into the room.
It’s bigger than I was expecting, which is probably thanks to the singular bed in the middle of it.
There’s a small kitchenette with a coffee machine, mini-fridge, and microwave, then a door across from it that must be for the bathroom.
I explore the rest of the suit and tug open the closet door. The garment bag hanging inside of it yanks a sigh from the very pit of my soul. Pinching the zipper, I lower it a few inches and confirm that it’s the bridesmaid dress my sister chose for me months ago.
“Is that your dress?” Grayson asks, appearing behind me.
“Yep.”
“Do you not like it?”
I shake my head and zip it back up. “It’s not that I don’t like it. I just had no opinion on which one was chosen for me, is all.”
When I turn around, I gasp. He’s much closer than I thought he was.
Like, way, way closer. I can smell his cologne like I’ve got my nose to the bottle and see the way his chest expands and forces the fabric of his polo shirt to stretch to accommodate his size.
I swallow thickly and press my palms flush to my thighs.
“I’m sure you’ll look beautiful regardless of what you wear,” he murmurs.
My heart skips. “We’ll see tomorrow, won’t we?”
“Mmm, we will.”
“I should . . . shower. Get ready for dinner.”
Don’t look up.
I ignore the voice in my mind and lift my gaze.
Smouldering green eyes are waiting. They waste no time before trying to swallow me whole.
There’s a heat slithering beneath my skin as we stare at each other.
It’s so similar to the flames I felt in the elevator, but there’s no ding to interrupt us this time.
My eyes nearly roll back when he brings an arm up beside my head.
Thick, round muscles flex in my peripheral as he shuts the door behind me.
It’s almost too much when he lowers his hand and pinches my sweater between two long fingers.
It’s slipped down my shoulder, and with one easy movement, he slides it back into place.
The round edge of his nail glides along my skin, over the lifted hair and goosebumps. I press against that subtle touch, wanting more. Something harder, more deliberate. But then he’s stepping back.
I drag in a deep breath that isn’t thick with his presence and reach for my hair, lifting it off my sweaty neck. He wets his lips before looking at me again.
“The bathroom is all yours.”
My first reaction is to tell him that I don’t need it anymore, and shit, that’s alarming. So, instead of giving in to the low ache that’s begun to build between my legs, I nod my head and dart past him, into the dark bathroom.
I count to ten before flicking on the light and staring at myself in the mirror. What I find in my reflection has me turning the shower on as cold as I can get it.
Then, I rinse off every heated thought from my mind.