The Love Wager

Hallie

Hallie rambled about the patio party as they walked to the room, her heart pounding in her chest as she thought through her plan. She was scared to say anything for fear of messing up their friendship, but she was equally scared of letting the perfect weekend end without ever daring to make something happen.

Without possibly taking a step forward.

“And they actually took the microphone away from you?” Jack laughed as they stepped into the elevator. “What a bunch of buzzkills.”

“Okay, well, I was actually being really obnoxious.”

“You? Impossible.”

She loved the way his eyes got crinkly around the edges when he was teasing her. She hit the button for their floor and said, “I discovered that falsetto made the mic squeal, so I might’ve selected a Bee Gees song and hit it hard.”

He rolled his eyes and said, “Why would they ever let you sing karaoke?”

“Why wouldn’t they? I have the voice of an angel.”

They got off on their floor and walked down the hallway. Hallie kept trying to get herself to just say it, to calmly tell him how she felt and what she wanted, but she couldn’t bring herself to utter the words.

They were stuck in her throat, so she rambled incessantly about nothing.

Jack opened the door and they went into the room, and as Hallie looked at that one very big bed, the words wouldn’t come out.

Say it, Hal.

Say it, you pussy.

Sayyyyy. Itttttt.

She spun around and looked up at his handsome face. “Um, Jack?”

He started loosening his tie, and she felt light-headed. “Yeah?”

“I think, um, well, I was thinking. That.”

He raised one eyebrow. “That . . . ?”

“That since we’re both staying in this room, uh, together, maybe we should, um. Maybe we should . . .”

He whipped off the tie and dropped it by his suitcase, his gaze intense. “Should what?”

She swallowed. “We should, um, take turns using the bathroom.”

His eyes narrowed as he unbuttoned his top button. “As opposed to . . . using it at the same time . . . ?”

“No.” She rolled her eyes. “I just have to wash my face. Can I have the bathroom first?” she asked.

He gave her a weird look. “Of course.”

“Awesome.” Hallie went over to her suitcase and pulled out the super-safe, not-sexy pajamas she’d decided to bring on the trip: her oversized, knee-length flannel nightshirt and a pair of tall, fuzzy socks. She walked past him and went into the bathroom, and it wasn’t until the door was closed and locked that she silent-screamed and wanted to smack herself in the face.

We’re adults, Jack, and we’ve slept together before. Since we don’t have emotional baggage, why not sleep together again? We obviously have sexual chemistry, so I say we do whatever feels right this weekend and then leave it all in Vail. As long as we don’t feel anything other than sexual attraction, it won’t be a problem, right?

She felt a hell of a lot more than that, but no way was she going to put it out there. No, her plan was to throw every single thing into the fake relationship this weekend, and maybe by the time they returned home, they would share their mutual feelings for each other.

Crazier things had happened, right?

But she had to say it casually enough so he wouldn’t get freaked again. Obviously he was worried she’d get emotionally attached—hence the closet conversation—so she needed him to believe that she wouldn’t.

She took off the white dress and changed into—ugh—the world’s least sexy pajamas. She fluffed up her hair, put on vanilla lotion, spritzed her belly button with Chanel No. 5, and pulled on her tall tube socks.

Wow, not even an inch of exposed skin.

When she came out of the bathroom, she was surprised to see Jack standing out on the balcony, in the dark. The lights from their room illuminated his tall form, and she could see he’d stripped down to his white undershirt, dress pants, and bare feet. “Which side of the bed do you want?” she asked.

He turned around, looked at her, and scowled. “That is what you’re sleeping in?” He stepped back inside, sliding the door closed.

“Shut up,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I know it’s—”

“You don’t have any pants you can wear?”

She paused. “What?”

“Pants.” He pointed to her legs, his eyebrows all bunched together, and repeated, “Pants. You don’t have any you can sleep in?”

She narrowed her eyes. “No . . . ?”

He sighed. “We can’t sleep in the same bed if you’re not wearing pants. Come on, Hal.”

“Are you kidding me right now?” She heard her voice rise to an irritating pitch. “You think my pajamas are, what—inappropriate?”

He said, “They’re not inappropriate unless we’re sharing a bed.”

“Then they’re inappropriate?” she asked, wondering if he was losing it.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

She put her hands on her hips. “What is wrong with you?”

“Hal, I didn’t bring any pajama pants,” he said, as if that totally explained his reaction to her pajamas. “I sleep in my boxers.”

“So?”

“So . . . ?” He gestured wildly with his right arm, like a point had just been made.

“So, I’ve seen boxers before, Jack.”

He made a noise that was a cross between a groan and a growl. “You’re being obtuse on purpose.”

“I’m not.” So much for gathering the courage to beg him to sleep with her. She sighed and said, “I’m going to get in bed while you go wash up. I will be buried under covers when you come out, my inappropriate flannels hidden from the world, and you can just squeeze your eyes shut and duck under the covers on your side. We will be fine.”

He dragged a hand through his hair and said, “I just think we need to proceed with caution.”

“Go change.” Hallie walked away from him, going to her suitcase to find the book she’d brought for the trip. He didn’t say anything as he brushed past her and went into the bathroom, and after the door closed, she rolled her eyes at him so hard they probably would get stuck, just like her mother had always warned.

She was lying on her side reading when the mattress dipped and Jack got under the covers. He smelled like Irish Spring soap, and her entire body tingled at his closeness. She thought he was going to just sleep, but he quietly said, “Hal?”

“Yeah?” Her voice was almost a whisper, stuck inside of her tight throat.

“I didn’t mean to overreact.” His voice was low and gravelly, and it did things to her when he said, “I’m sorry.”

She turned over, and just like that, his gaze was focused on her as they lay side by side, face-to-face in bed. As if that weren’t enough to make her spontaneously combust, his naked chest was just right there. She said, “You’re looking out for us—I get it. We’re cool.”

One side of his mouth kicked up a little. “Oh, well, thank God we’re cool.”

They shared a smile, more intimate than any they’d ever shared as their heads rested on matching pillows, and she reached out her index finger and traced the center line of his strong nose. “If I say something, do you promise to forget it if you disagree?”

A crinkle appeared between his eyebrows. “Okay . . . ?”

“Okay.” Hallie lifted her head and moved her pillow closer to his so their pillows were touching, and she laid her head back down. She looked down at his chest, because she couldn’t dare look at his face. “I know what we said in the closet, but I think we can have sex and it will totally be fine.”