Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
I took in the scene before me. Neil was sprawled on the bed, eyes closed, his back rising and falling with his breath.
I studied his sleeping form with a mixture of appreciation and uncertainty. He looked far too peaceful to wake—but he was on my bed, taking up all the space, leaving me with nowhere to sleep. He had all his clothes on still—even his shoes. His arms and legs were splayed, his head tilted to the side, a placid look on his face…
Ugh. This was going to be unpleasant for him, but what else could I do? I reached out, braced myself for impact, then gripped him by the shoulder and gave a tentative shake. “Neil?”
He snored softly.
I repeated his name, louder this time.
No response.
I shook him harder. “Wake up!”
Still no response.
It was no use. That was all the force I was willing to use, and he was still completely out to it. Neil had the bed. It was his now.
I dropped onto the edge with a sigh.
What do I do now? Go to another hotel on my own?
I didn’t want to. I had already unpacked, and I was sooo tired. By the time I repacked and moved to another hotel, it would nearly be time to get up. What was the point? No. There was no way I was going to do that. But there was nowhere in the room to sleep except a sliver of floor space, or upright in the desk chair, or the bed—the soft, cloud-like bed…
I looked at Neil, admiring his resting body as the weight of my tiredness threatened to crush me.
At least you’re comfortable.
Before I knew what I was doing, I unlaced his shoes and pulled them off, then I lifted his head and wedged a pillow underneath him. I didn’t realise how intimate my actions would feel until I was midway through doing them, and by then I couldn’t stop myself. I lingered with his head in my hand, his skin rough with stubble against my palm, my fingers entwined in his dark hair.
“Melia,” Neil mumbled as I gently released him.
I froze. “Neil?”
He didn’t say anything else. His eyes were still closed, his breathing even.
Was that my name? Was he having a dream about me? The notion piqued my interest, but I shrugged it off. So what if he was? It wouldn’t be unexpected. I was the last person he saw before he fell asleep, after all. It didn’t mean anything.
I glanced at the time. It was nearly three in the morning. If I closed my eyes now, if I lay my head down…
Screw it.
With the last remaining shred of strength I had, I got up and turned off the lights, then returned to the bed, where I carefully slipped under the covers and moulded myself into a position that left as much distance between us as possible. The softness of the mattress embraced my tired body, and I let out a sigh of relief. I could feel Neil’s presence beside me, hear his breathing. He was the last thing to occupy my thoughts before I fell asleep.
I awoke to an unfamiliar ceiling above me, its flat white surface bathed in early-morning sunlight. The next thing I noticed was the arm draped over my waist, skin to skin since my t-shirt and tank top had ridden up, exposing my stomach. The toned forearm was lightly tanned, with veins running through it and a dusting of fine, dark hair. Realisation who it belonged to sank in as the events of the previous few hours came rushing back to me. I tilted my head to the side and saw Neil lying beside me, fast asleep, oblivious to the compromising position we were in. At some point, he must have got under the covers, consciously or unconsciously, and the space between us had evaporated. He was so close I could feel his breath.
I lay in a stupefied state, paralysed by the conflicting desires to eject myself from the bed at once and to burrow so flush to the contours of his body that I could feel every inch of him pressed to me. I let out a shaky breath and tried to collect myself. I had a sliver of opportunity here. If I got out of bed now, before Neil woke, I could pretend I had never slept beside him and save us both a whole load of embarrassment. If he did somehow remember me in bed with him, I could tell him it must have been a dream.
Yes. That’s what I’ll do.
With a newfound sense of resolve, I flung the covers half off of me and tried to roll out from under Neil’s arm without disturbing him. This proved impossible. Neil was clinging to me, and the weight of his arm had me pinned to the mattress. Heart pounding, I grasped his wrist to lift his arm off me. Neil grunted and stirred. I froze, my hand still wrapped around his wrist. I sucked in a breath before resuming the task of carefully lifting his limb and moving it off me.
Almost… there…
My alarm sounded, blasting its familiar melody at a volume which should be illegal. Startled, I dropped Neil’s arm right back into its original position. Neil groaned with a sound that was almost lewd.
My phone was on the table on Neil’s side, and I couldn’t reach it to turn off the alarm. Neil twisted towards me and cracked open his eyes. I winced, feeling like a deer in headlights. He blinked several times, as if he didn’t believe his eyes. Maybe he thought he was dreaming. Next, his gaze darted to his arm outstretched over me, and he let out a startled noise. “Ah!”
He snapped away from me like a magnet being repelled, taking up residence at the furthest reaches of the bed.
The alarm finally stopped blaring, but my heartbeat was still drumming in my ears.
Neil shyly returned his gaze to me. “What happened?” he asked, his voice husky.
I grimaced, unsure where to begin. “How much do you remember?”
Neil swallowed. “We didn’t… we didn’t… did we?”
Oh my gosh.
My cheeks felt like you could fry eggs on them. “Of course not!”
Neil heaved himself into a sitting position, his shirt a crumpled mess, while I adjusted my top, covering myself up.
Neil scratched his head. “I remember arriving in this hotel room, but I don’t remember getting into bed with you.”
“Because you didn’t.” I couldn’t let Neil believe he was the one who had instigated this scenario. I respected him far too much for that. “You fell asleep on the bed while I went down to reception. I couldn’t get another room because the hotel was fully booked, and I couldn’t wake you up when I returned… I was just so tired. I didn’t know what else to do. I’m sorry.”
Some of the stiffness melted from Neil’s shoulders. “Hmm. I should have tried harder to stay awake and not put you in such an unreasonable position.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Neither is it yours.”
An awkward lull passed between us. I was more aware than ever that we were in bed together. Neil and I. Me and my boss.
“I’m going to have a shower,” I said quickly.
“Go ahead.”
I jumped out of bed and scurried to the bathroom, unable to take a breath until the door was closed and locked behind me. My heart was still beating a million miles a minute. Neil had been understanding of the situation, so why was I an emotional wreck?
The hot shower soothed my frayed nerves, but I still felt skittish afterwards. I had to get changed back into my leggings and t-shirt because I had forgotten to bring other clothes into the bathroom with me. When I emerged, Neil was sitting at the foot of the bed, cradling his head in his hands with a pained expression on his face.
“Are you okay?” I asked, coming to his side.
“My head is killing me.”
I had an urge to lay a sympathetic hand on his shoulder but stopped myself. “I have paracetamol. Do you want some?”
“Yes, please.”
I poured a glass of water in the bathroom, then located a foil blister pack of pills in my toiletries bag. Neil was massaging his temples upon my return. He accepted the water and paracetamol and gulped them down.
“I’m not surprised you have a headache after the state you were in last night,” I said. “But I am curious. I thought you said you didn’t drink.”
“There are two sides of me.”
I quirked a brow. “What does that mean?”
“I have to be a different person in Daniel’s presence.”
I kind of caught his drift, but I also wondered if he was still slightly drunk.
“I’m sorry you saw me like that,” he said.
I shrugged his comment off. “You were remarkably put together for someone so inebriated.”
The corner of Neil’s lips twitched up. “Was I?”
“Apart from the throwing up, I mean.”
Neil winced.
“Don’t worry. I’m not judging you.”
He glanced at his phone. “We better get ready. We should leave soon.”
“Will you be okay?”
“I have to be. The shareholder’s meeting won’t get cancelled over my hangover. Everyone’s expecting me to speak.”
“I’m sure you’ll feel better once the paracetamol kicks in.”
“Yes. I’m sure you’re right.”
The hint of doubt in his voice didn’t escape me.