Wait.

Where am I?

I blink a few times as an unfamiliar room comes into focus. Despite what Annie might think about my crazy lifestyle, it’s pretty rare that I wake up anywhere more unusual than my kitchen table, my head surrounded by open textbooks.

The white comforter pulled around my shoulders. The ceiling that is decidedly not sloped. The hairy arm draped around me—

Holy shit. I’m spooning with Nick.

I stifle a groan that is either an expression of panic or lust; I’m genuinely not sure. Nick’s bare chest is pressed up against my back and it feels so good that I want to drift off to sleep for the rest of the day—but eventually he’s going to wake up and realize that he’s cradling me, his slow breath in my ear and his right hand grazing my boob and his . . .

Holy shit, part the second. Nick has a boner.

I’m familiar with the physiological phenomenon of morning boners, but I absolutely do not want to be near Nick’s. Or, okay, I do. I very much do. But after last night’s conversation, I want to not want to and that means that I need to get away from him, which is gonna be hard because we’re still two high-powered magnets, pulled to each other even when we’re asleep.

I arch my back and make my body as horizontal as possible, letting my feet dangle off the bed, then do an impressive almost-backbend as I let my body slide to the ground. I rest there on the floor for a moment, breathing heavily.

It’s fine. This is fine. I’m huddled on the rough carpet of a probably disgusting hotel room floor, trying to forget about the sexually charged discussion Nick and I had last night while dealing with the fact that he has a boner.

I crawl toward my bag, then slide carefully into the bathroom, where I shut the door with a click.

“Whew.” I exhale and stare at myself in the mirror. I look flushed and panicked, like I ran a mile at gunpoint. I shake my head quickly, then strip down to get into the shower. I double-check that the bathroom door is locked, because the absolute last thing I need right now is another rom-com-worthy accidental nudity scene.

I crank the water up as hot as it will go, until it’s practically peeling my skin off. The hotel-issued washcloth and bar soap aren’t what I would call luxurious, but I scrub my body as if I’m removing all memories of last night. If only I could exfoliate my feelings away.

Nick was right, of course, and now that we’re no longer under the cover of darkness, I’m so glad he stopped me from doing something I’d regret. I do want more responsibility at the shop, and I like knowing that Nick’s compliments are about my work, not about his desire to sleep with me.

Although. I can’t get what he said last night out of my head.