Asher and I lifted our heads and stared at each other in horror.
Which meant I was stuck here for the night.
CHAPTER 12ASHER
This was a nightmare.
The Met Office had warned of possible severe thunderstorms today, but the morning and afternoon had been so beautiful, I’d dismissed their concerns.
Now, all of a sudden, I was trapped with the one person I didn’t want—or shouldn’t want—to spend the night with.
I glanced at Scarlett, who’d finally changed out of her bathrobe and into her freshly dried clothes.
Thank God. The robe had been distracting, to say the least, which was irritating because it’d been my bloody guest robe.
Note to self: Buy more full-coverage robes in case of similar future occurrences. Preferably full-length with a turtleneck and so many layers you can’t tell if it’s a human body or a concrete block under there.
Certainly nothing that revealed endless dancer’s legs or a shadow of cleavage. Nothing that exposed miles of smooth skin or tempted the imagination.
“Absolutely not. I refuse,” she said, crossing her arms. “Anything but that.”
My pulse leapt before I realized she was talking about my movie choice and not the traitorous thoughts she’d somehow divined from my face.
“It’s a movie. It’s not real.” I tossed out a teasing smile to mask the balloon of relief in my chest.
It’d been hours since we received the emergency weather alert, and the storm showed no signs of abating. For lack of anything better to do, we’d settled in the theatre with popcorn and an agreement to alternate movie choices.
Scarlett chose the first film, a heist comedy about sorority sisters who had to steal a rare diamond necklace after getting caught up with a Vegas mob boss. It wasn’t to my usual taste, but I hadn’t complained, and the movie had turned out to be pretty good.
It seemed a bit unfair, then, for her to renege on her part of the deal.
“It’s a horror movie,” she said. “I don’t watch horror.”
“Too scared?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. Horror movies give me nightmares, and unless you want me screaming the house down at three in the morning, I recommend we switch to literally any other genre.”
“Oh, come on. It’s not that bad. This isn’t even the original Japanese version.”
Japanese versions were always ten times scarier than their American counterparts. It was a universal fact.
“I couldn’t even handle Scream, and that was satire.” Scarlett grimaced. “No, thank you. Pick another movie, please.”
“That’s not part of our deal.”
“Pretty please?”
“Don’t bat your lashes at me. It’s not going to work.” I cocked an eyebrow. “Come on. What happened to facing your fears and overcoming them?”
“I never said I would do that. I’m perfectly happy locking my fears in the closet and pretending they don’t exist.”
“Ah, denial. The best way to go through life.”
“Slap it on a T-shirt and call me Egypt.”
Laughter burst from my chest at her unexpected pun. I’d heard it before, but it was better coming from her.
Everything was better coming from her.
Her knee grazed mine as she shifted in her seat. My smile vanished, and it took all my willpower not to jerk my leg away.
I’d done a decent job of keeping things professional the past few weeks (minus my unplanned detour to her place on Sunday). The occasional flirtatious remark slipped out here or there, but they were harmless.
However, it was easier to stay professional when we were in the studio. It was a hell of a lot harder when we were sitting next to each other in a dark, private theatre.
Every time we moved, we risked brushing against each other. The anticipation of those light touches was more stressful than the jump scares in a horror film. Plus, the faint coconut scent of her shampoo—my guest shampoo—lingered hours later. It made me want to bury my face and hands in her hair, which would be deeply unprofessional.
Second note to self: Restock guest toiletries with unscented products. Or better yet, with Lynx. My father had worn Lynx exclusively since I was born, and it was the ultimate attraction killer.
Who wanted to kiss someone that smelled like their dad? No one.
“Let’s make a deal,” I said. “You watch this with me, and I’ll forfeit the rest of my choices for the night. We can watch as many heist comedies as you want.”
“Nice try. By the time it’s over, it’ll be time for bed.” Scarlett shook her head. “No deal.”
Dammit. I was hoping she’d overlook that.
