Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
JADA
Transitions and I don’t mix, especially when I’m frazzled. And this morning has been the definition of hot mess, so I stumble into the hotel feeling like my brain is being pulled apart on all sides.
I manage to say hello to some guests and hustle into my office to gather myself before I make the rounds to the various teams to check in.
After taking a few deep breaths and chugging some coffee I took to go, I do a loop around the property.
First, the kitchen. We only serve breakfast and lunch, so we’re in between services. Everything is going smoothly.
So is housekeeping and Grace at the front desk. That leaves the construction shit show in the back. I let out a heavy breath and open the door that used to lead directly into the woods. Now it’s a shell of what I hope to be our bar and event space.
We’ve held events for as long as the hotel has been open—mostly parties without alcohol—but this bar will open up even more business.
Our guests can have a place to mingle in the evening, and we can serve small bites late at night.
And we’ll have our liquor license, so we can make a lot more money, too.
Assuming it ever gets finished.
The contractor and his team are there, fiddling with some wires.
The room is roughed out, so while we aren’t out there in the open, it’s still very bare.
But even that feels like somewhat of an achievement.
Breaking ground on this space was hellish and required a lot of planning so we didn’t destroy the trees around the property. Then, there were permits on permits.
The contractor, Lane, spots me and grimaces.
“Hi, Ms. Jada,” he says. I’ve told him a million times to just call me Jada, but he doesn’t get the message. “We’re having some electrical issues today. Some moisture got in and…”
He starts rambling—he tends to ramble a little bit too much, and I understand about 15 percent of the construction lingo. If I ask him more clarifying questions, it only gets worse.
“So what’s the delay going to be?” I ask once he stops talking.
“Another week or so?” He shrugs. “Can’t say for sure. Depends on the weather and when I can get my electrical guy out.”
“Fine.” I hold in my sigh. We wanted this to be done last year, and now the projected finish date is in September.
“I’m sorry. I know you’ve been wanting this project done for a while. Once we get the bones down, the rest of the project will really fly,” he says. He’s said this a thousand times and maybe I’ll believe him when I see it.
I head back to the front desk and finally let out that sigh.
“What happened? Are you okay?” Grace asks.
“Depends on your definition of fine.” I tell her everything that happened with the cat and my ceiling, including the fact that we had to move Ash’s stuff into my room.
“Which is a bigger worry—the ceiling or Ash?” she asks, arching an eyebrow.
I look up at the ceiling. “Ash. Obviously.”
A few guests come up to the desk, and we help them pick out a spot for lunch. Then, a few more things need our attention before we can go back to chatting.
“So you guys are sharing a bed?” Grace asks once we’re back in my office. One of our other staff has taken over the front desk temporarily.
“We will be tonight. There’s not a lot of space for an air mattress. Not that Pip would let that mattress be there without digging his claws into it.” I lower my desk chair and spin around.
“Maybe you can…y’know.” She picks up one of my fidget toys and plays with it. “Let the tension out.”
My face immediately burns and I put my hands to my cheeks. “Grace. No. What the hell. You’re supposed to be the somewhat reasonable one!”
“Girl, neither of us are reasonable! That’s why we’re friends! I might be a little more organized but if there’s chaos, I’m drawn to it just a little bit.” She tries to spin the toy on her fingers and flings it across the office. “But seriously, maybe it’ll help. You need stress relief.”
“That’s why Jeremiah’s home gym exists.” I tap my keyboard to wake my computer up.
We dive into some actual work, and the day starts flying by. Then, it screeches to a near halt on my commute home. Dad reassured me that rest of the ceiling wasn’t going to collapse, but it’ll take them a few days to get there and fix the spot. And then, I need to get a new couch.
So it’ll be a few days where we’ll be forced to share a bed. And I can’t just pretend this isn’t happening, especially because Ash’s car is in the small lot next to the building.
I take a deep breath and head inside. Just like always, Pip chirps and trots up to me as soon as I take off my shoes. He weaves around my ankles, then rears up to lightly tap me on the hand.
“I know, I’m here. I’m petting you, my little gentleman,” I say, squatting down and petting him. “You’re good? The pets are acceptable?”
Usually he lies down to get tummy rubs, but today, he runs into the kitchen. Ash is standing at the counter, holding a sponge. It smells like the eco-friendly cleaner I impulse bought and haven’t used yet beyond giving it a good sniff.
“Did you clean?” I blurt.
“Yeah. I had a short day and then got hit with some band bullshit. I stress clean sometimes.” He puts the sponge in a holder that he unearthed from somewhere. “Is that fine?”
“That’s more than fine.” Facing a clean kitchen without even a dish in the sink makes the idea of cooking something less daunting. “Thank you.”
“It’s fine. I live here, too.” He opens the fridge. “I also ordered too much Chinese food because I didn’t want to cook, so you can have some. It’s from China #2.”
I stare at the back of his head as he rummages through the fridge. He just…did all that. And offered me food?
Okay, maybe there are upsides to this.
“Thank you,” I finally say. “I’m going to change and I’ll grab a plate.”
I go change out of my work clothes and into my cozy ones, Pip hanging out with Ash instead of me.
Or, more accurately, Pip giving Ash sad eyes while he eats, while keeping a polite distance.
He doesn’t offer me the same courtesy and tries to get all in my business as I plate my noodles.
I’m used to it, though, and maneuver out of the way.
I sit across from Ash at the table. Thankfully, he has his earbuds in and he’s frowning at whatever he’s watching, so I do the same.
We spend the rest of the night like that since we can’t sit on the wrecked couch.
I tend to get in bed early and lounge there for a long time before falling asleep, so eventually, I excuse myself to get ready for this part of my night.
My heart starts skipping as I wash my face and brush my teeth. Maybe I’ll be asleep by the time he comes to bed? Or would that be worse, waking up to a man in my bed? Even if I know he’s coming, I’ll probably scream at the top of my lungs.
I go about my business as usual, though, scrolling a little while I sip my mocktail and watching as Pip makes his rounds—he climbs his cat tree, grooms himself, makes a loop around the rest of the apartment, and finally settles on the pillow next to mine.
I switch to my favorite cozy game and turn off my lamp, my eyelids getting a little heavy.
I get to relax about twenty minutes when I hear Ash in the bathroom. Getting ready for bed takes him about five minutes, and he appears in my doorway moments later without a word.
He’s shirtless, soft-looking pajamas pants slung low on his hips.
God, his body is so perfectly put together.
All of his muscles look like they sprung up there effortlessly.
I’m so distracted that my character immediately dies, getting attacked by one of the slow, annoying monsters in the mines that I can usually avoid easily.
“I guess I’m sleeping here,” he finally says.
My bed. My cozy little sanctuary. Being invaded. My room isn’t that big, but it’s like he’s sucked all the space away in an instant.
“Right. Bed rules,” I say once I’ve gotten over reality hitting me in the face. “First thing is absolutely no food. Not even if it’s solid, especially not if it’s crumbly. The exception is smoothies or milkshakes.”
“I’d never eat in bed,” he says, rightfully horrified. Even the thought of crumbs being in my bed makes my skin crawl.
Troy always said I was the princess from The Princess and the Pea, but seriously, who wants to lay on a single crumb?
Why attract bugs? Eat your late-night snacks standing over the sink, almost hungover, the way it’s supposed to be.
Lie in your bed and wither into dust before dragging a granola bar between the sheets.
“Good.” I point to Pip’s pillow. “You’ll have to share a pillow with Pip.”
His eyebrow creeps up. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, Pip sleeps there after he snuggles with me. That’s his final spot on his nightly commute,” I say.
Ash gives me a long look. “But my head goes there.”
“So does his.”
“Along with the rest of his body.” He looks at Pip, who’s sprawled out on the bed in front of us. He rolls onto his back to show us more of his tummy.
“I mean, he’s a cat. He’s going to do what he wants to do,” I say, squeezing his back toe beans.
Ash sighs. “I guess.”
“As for sleep, I like to do it, but I like to laze around in bed for a while before I pass out. Are you okay with the TV being on?”
“Jada, I sleep like shit no matter what.” He sighs, exasperated. “You could do basically anything short of punching me in the face and it’ll be fine.”
“So the cat sharing your pillow won’t be a problem?”
“I mean, as long as he doesn’t try to smother me, it’s fine.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “Is that everything?”
“And no touching,” I add, even though to me, it’s the most important rule. “That’s everything.”
“It’s a king-sized bed. I think we’ll be fine,” he says.
Ash pulls the blanket down on his side of the bed until he runs into Pip, who stretches. He tries to jiggle the blanket out from under him, but Pip just lies there. I nudge Pip over and he walks toward me, letting Ash slip into the bed.
Am I hallucinating or do I feel his body heat from across the bed? What size bed would I need to not sense him?
“What are you doing?” Ash asks once he’s settled in. “In the game.”
“It’s a farming and baking simulator,” I say. “I have to grow certain crops for the seasonal menu and also fight off these little monsters who want to sabotage you.”
“Oh.”
The word stretches out between us. I expect him to try to go to bed, but he watches me play. No one’s ever watched me play before, and being watched makes me way too self-conscious. My crops are failing miserably and my character is taking loads of damage.
“You don’t want to scroll on your phone or anything?” I ask him as I make my farmer character go to sleep.
“I don’t really fuck with social media and I’m in a reading slump. Hope you don’t mind that I watch.” He shrugs and lifts his hands so Pip can climb up his chest. “Oh, he’s committed to this pillow.”
Pip climbs onto his shoulder and lies down so he’s half on the pillow, half on Ash’s shoulder. It must be good enough for him because he closes his eyes.
“Told you.” I go back to my game. “What kind of books do you like?”
“Fantasy and sci-fi, mostly. But I used to just buy a stack of books at secondhand stores or yard sales when we were on the road to go through.”
“Cool.”
Part of my crush on him back in high school was the allure of the bad boy reading a book and writing poetry.
It still gives me a little tingle, to be honest. My bookshelves in the living room are stuffed, as are the ones around the TV.
But he probably wouldn’t like historical romance, or all the other genres of romance I have in there.
The game picks up enough to where I can play without being self-conscious. Even as he asks questions now and then, it starts to feel more comfortable than I expected.
I keep playing until I feel my eyelids get heavy. He doesn’t say anything when I shut it down.
“Um, good night,” I say, turning off the lamp.
“Night.”
The only sound in the room is Pip’s heavy purring.
Usually he settles down to sleep, then wanders around the apartment later to have a two a.m. meltdown for no reason.
I stare at the ceiling, my eyes adjusting to the dark.
I don’t feel Ash’s body heat—or imagine that I’m feeling it—but every time he shifts, I feel it.
He sighs, Pip squeaks, and I huff. Eventually I pop in an ear bud and put on soothing music just to fall asleep.
Pip’s late-night antics wake me briefly, but besides that, I make it through the night without much disturbance. In fact, I sleep pretty damn well.
My alarm goes off at six thirty and I sigh into my pillow. The bed is too comfortable, the weight of the blankets sinking me deeper into the mattress.
But it’s not the weight of the blankets. It’s the weight of Ash pressed against my back, his arm around me. And his hard cock right on my ass.
I startle fully awake and Pip’s face is inches from mine. My panic triggers his and he goes flying off the bed, making both of us yelp. Ash wakes up, too, with a grunt, rolling onto his back.
“The fuck is happening?” he asks, his voice raspy.
“You were…we were…Pip got scared and…” I rub my eyes. We’re smack in the middle of the bed, so it’s not like either of us wandered over too far. “Your…um…”
I gesture wildly at his lower half. My brain forgets the word for penis in that moment, but my ass remembers every inch of length pressed against my cheeks.
“It’s morning,” he says, sliding his legs off the side of the bed. “It’s nothing. And sorry, I didn’t mean to cuddle you.”
“We just ended up like that.” I pat the bed so Pip will come back. He tentatively pads over, like I’m going to startle again. “It’s nothing. Now we know so we can put a barrier there or something.”
He runs his hands down his face, which does nice things to the muscles of his back.
“Right. A barrier. That’ll help,” he says.
Is he being sarcastic? You know what, I’m not even going to go there. I fling myself out of bed and walk past him to the bathroom, ignoring whatever situation he has going on.
One night down, however many nights until the ceiling is fixed to go.