Ex Scrooge Me (Love for the Holiday Book 1) by Brynn Paulin

Author:Brynn Paulin [Paulin, Brynn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: series
Publisher: Supernova Indie Publishing Services LLC
Published: 2019-12-21T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Three

~Maisie~

It took another hour to find a place. Ira had insisted on driving in the direction we’d been initially travelling and I searched for hotels on my phone. There was nothing close to the hospital, which really had been in the middle of nowhere, and the first few hotels with dining were all full. At this point, I was ready to take anything we could much on junk food all night and find a decent breakfast in the morning.

Just as I was ready to give up, I found a place. The room had one king bed, but it was the only one left. And, yes, their restaurant was open and running for the next few hours.

Excited, I reserved the room.

“It’s still twenty-five miles,” I told him. “Sorry, that’s closest.”

“It’s fine. Thanks for finding a place.”

He sounded…sad. Maybe defeated. Was he just tired? Driving like this, fighting the snow, tense the whole way was exhausting. I’d driven in these conditions more than once back home.

“Are you okay?” I asked. I longed to reach out and tough him, to lay my hand on his thigh like I used to. To connect. To reassure. Maybe anchor myself. Being a passenger in the storm was pretty harrowing, too.

“Me? Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. But did they just say the room has one bed?”

“It’s all they had.”

“It’s okay. It’s just, I know you’re not ready to forgive me or even talk about what happened. I’m pretty sure you don’t want to share a bed with me.”

Well, he would be wrong there. I wanted to sleep with him, I just wouldn’t. We were at odds but my body still reacted to the lover she knew—the only one she knew.

“It’s a king. I’m pretty sure we can manage.”

“If you say so.” He didn’t sound convinced. I wasn’t. But if we gravitated across the mattress to each other, so be it. I was the injured party here. If I said it was okay, it would be. And if I ended up in his arms in the morning, I’d enjoy it until he woke up and started apologizing. Maybe that was setting him up for failure, but I promised myself here and now, I wouldn’t act mad if it happened.

Perhaps my mom was right. Ira and I could be friends with benefits. Okay, she hadn’t suggested we sleep together, but a girl can get ideas.

“I can ask if they have a rollaway,” he offered after a few more miles.

I rolled my eyes. He didn’t see. All his focus was firmly on the road, but the annoyed sound I made might have tipped him off.

“We’re adults. We can handle it.”

“We’re adults with history.”

He was right. We were adults with history who used to sleep over at each other’s places all the time. It was how I got custody of the sweater. It didn’t matter how we went to sleep, we always ended up wrapped together, with him half on top of me like he was using his body as a shield or something.

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