“I can fill it for you any time you want,” the butler says. “Just let us know.”
I nod at him and manage to murmur, “Thank you.” I go back inside and tuck my hands into my back pockets while Murph talks to the butler on his way out. The door finally gets closed, and Murph twists the lock.
His head hangs down, his hands still on the knobs and deadbolts, almost like he’s praying. Then he straightens and faces me. “So,” he says.
“So.” I make no move to close the distance between us.
Murph takes slow steps, something urgent blazing in those eyes. My throat narrows as he nears, and I have no idea why. My pulse storms, sending lightning strikes through my body, and all I can think is, I’m so attracted to him.
When did I start to feel this electric energy between us? Can he feel it too?
He stops a healthy pace away and folds his arms. “You aren’t going to kick me in the middle of the night, are you?”
I blink, so discombobulated in this moment. “I mean—maybe.”
He grins, and I realize too late that he’s teasing. “I don’t really want to sleep on this couch.” He nods to the lounger. “But I can.”
“It’s not even flat.” It’s curved like something I’ll probably lay on tomorrow at the beach. It could definitely fit both of us side-by-side, but I don’t want to sleep there either.
“You have those jimmy-legs,” he says. “So I won’t make you promise.”
My fingers itch to start unpacking my bag, but Murph makes no move to do anything like that. His gaze holds mine, and I search his face, desperate to understand what I’m seeing there. I know this man really well, but I can’t decipher his non-verbal looks very fast. We spend a ton of time talking on the phone, not face-to-face, and before I can identify much, he walks around to the side of the bed I want to sleep on and sinks to the mattress.
“I’m calling for room service,” he says as he lifts the phone receiver.
“Okay.” I roll my bag to the end of the bed and heft it up to the mattress. I unpack while he orders a ton of food. I’m not going to complain. I’m starving, and I don’t want to hunt down the buffet in the dark any more than he does.
“Good thing I mostly packed swimming suits and cover-ups,” I say. “Lots of room for your stuff.”
Murph rises from the bed, his footsteps landing on the tile. “Sloane.”
“Yeah?” I step back from the closet, where I’d been hanging my long maxi-dress cover-up. He’s only a foot from me now, and oh, snappers and cracklers. The energy between us is hot, and he has to feel that.
My eyes widen, and his do too.
“Are you upset about the room?” he asks. His pinky finger slides along mine, and his gaze drops to our hands.
My skin bursts into flames where he’s touched it, and I croak out, “No. Are you?”
He shakes his head. “Not at all.” He looks up at me without moving his head, a boyish hope in his face. Boyish. Hope.
I have no idea what’s happening, but it feels like time has slowed to zero and is flying by at light speed at the same time. I don’t know if I’m coming or going, and I certainly can’t come up with anything to say.
“I’m thinking of moving,” he says out of the blue.
“Oh,” I say. “Okay.”
“I work from home as it is,” he says. “I can live anywhere.” He pulls his hand away from where his fingers have been playing with mine. “I hear there’s this really great real estate agent in Pittsburgh who can help me find somewhere great to live.” A smile curves that mouth, and oh, he’s making my knees weak.
Shock courses through me at the same time. Honestly, I need to sit down. Now. “You want to move to Pittsburgh?” I sit down on the counter and brace my hands next to my hips.
“I mean, who wants to move to Pittsburgh?” He laughs lightly, but it dies fairly quickly. He half-scoffs and half-hums and shifts his feet. “I’m just saying, I don’t have to live in Superior.”
“I thought your parents needed help.”
“Yeah,” he says. “Yep, with yardwork and stuff. But they can hire someone.”
I don’t know what to say. He’s never mentioned being unhappy in Superior. “Why do you want to leave?”
“Because,” he says. “I don’t have any friends there.” He sits next to me and nudges my shoulder with his. “All my friends are in Pittsburgh.” A half-smile accompanies him, and I sigh.
I lean my head against his shoulder. “I would love it if you moved to Pittsburgh.”
“Would you?”
“Yeah.”
Murph puts his hand on my leg, the heat of it burning through the denim almost instantly. He pulls his hand back as if he can feel that fire too, and he pushes back to standing in the next moment.
“It’s probably a good time for a move,” he says with his back to me. “I haven’t been out with anyone since Clara, and I think I’m ready to start dating again.”
My shoulders tense up. “Really?” My voice comes out so squeaky.
He faces me again. “Yeah, really.” He looks down at my suitcase, and with horror, I realize the only things left are underthings. I jolt to a standing position and try to block my bag with my body.
It doesn’t matter. He’s seen the unmentionables already. His eyes fly to mine. “I’m gonna go get a drink.” He lurches toward the door.
“Murph,” I say.
“Juan Carlos said we could have anything we wanted.” He yanks open the door and won’t look directly at me. “Diet Coke? Coke Zero?”
“Sure,” I say, and he leaves like he’s being chased by the boogieman. I look down at my panties and spanx. A sigh flitters out of my mouth. “Great job, Sloane. Why do you have to unpack the moment you arrive in your room?”
I could’ve waited until he was asleep, and then ferreted my lace and spandex away in secret. Or drawered it while he was in the shower.
I think of him standing under the rainfall shower head, water dripping down his bare body as he soaps up…
I suddenly have to get out of this room too, but I opt for the balcony and the built-in bench seat there. That way, the ocean can talk to me and help me figure out what to do with my raging feelings for Logan.
Thirty minutes later, she’s offered me few solutions. Logan cracks the door and says, “Coke Zero, Sloany. And the food is here.” He extends the red can of cola toward me, and I stand to take it.
“Logan,” I say as I do. He’d started to turn to go back inside, but he freezes now. “I—I don’t want this to be weird between us.” I gesture with the can of soda pop, which will explode when I open it if I don’t stop. I force it to my side. “This is us, Logan. We go on this trip every year, and I don’t know what’s going on this time, but I…” I don’t know how to fill in that silence, and Logan won’t. He only says what needs to be said.
“You’re my best friend. I can’t lose that.” I step into his chest, and thankfully, he opens his arms to receive me. “We can sleep in the same bed. It’s no big deal. I’ll eat your mushrooms, and you’ll take my red onions, and we’ll be fine. Because this is us.”