Page 86 of Love In Hiding

She couldn’t call him her boyfriend. They hadn’t even had sex.

Two dates in the past week. If she was being generous enough to count a working lunch in her office as one. The second had been dinner on Monday. Nice and pleasant and nothing more than a kiss on the cheek as she climbed out of the taxi and it brought him home.

And now here they were, sitting side by side like something more than whatever they were pretending not to be. Or at least she was.

“Your what?” he asked, his grin cutting sideways, deliberately smug, the heat making her want to curl her toes in her sneakers. A place no one could see her reaction.

She narrowed her eyes. “I thought you were listening to music.”

He’d put his earbuds in, but clearly it was just for show.

“Not yet,” he said, his voice a slow caress carrying over her skin. Getting this close to him was going to make it hard to focus.

Her pulse picked up. “I don’t think now is the time to talk about this, do you?”

“Probably not,” he admitted. No pushback, no teasing comeback, just a smooth retreat as he picked up his phone, tapped a button, and closed his eyes. That damn patience of his.

He went quiet so easily.

And that was the part that tangled her stomach.

Because if he’d kept pushing, she could have fought. Bantered. Maybe deflected. Even tried to annoy him to get a rise. Anything.

But him stepping back?

That meant he was thinking the same thing she was.

And neither of them had the slightest clue what they were supposed to call it.

Or where they were supposed to go.

Shehatedto be in this position.

Just as much as she hated thirteen hours later, they were leaving the restaurant where they’d caught dinner before going to their hotel.

The flight had been smooth, she’d napped like Spencer appeared to be doing, her head even falling on his shoulder at one point. She didn’t know when, only that she woke up and tried to hide her mortification.

She didn’t know why when the guy already had his hands down her pants.

But they all got right to work, stayed focused and got thejob done, filled up on food and were now at the desk getting keys to their rooms.

This time there were two rooms. One for her and her sister, one for Spencer.

She’d rather be with him.

They weren’t even next to each other but on different floors.

“Go if you want,” Paris said.

“What?”

“You’re pacing and it’s driving me nuts. Go to Spencer’s room.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you both want it and are both afraid to take the step. Not sure if it’s because I’m the third wheel or not, but I don’t care. I might prefer not having to share the bathroom.”

“He didn’t even ask me,” she argued.