pair of scissors. Who do I look like, Martha Stewart?”
“No, wise guy. You look like you were doing something you shouldn’t have been doing, and you got caught.” I couldn’t hide my smile. “Literally.”
“So funny.”
I shrugged in dramatic fashion, which pulled his head forward.
“Ow.”
“Sorry.” I considered our situation. “Maybe we could try to lower the zipper. See if we can work your hair free.”
“Okay.”
As I reached for the tab, he stopped me.
“Slow. This isn’t a Band-Aid we need to rip off. It’s my hair.”
“Right. Slow.” I inched my hand down lower and lower, closer to his head. Unfortunately, the hair entangled underneath and over the zipper. “This isn’t going to work.”
“I know. You’re killing me.” He sighed. “This is totally your fault, by the way.”
“My fault?” I’d been lying there, minding my own business. He was the one with his hand, and then his head, inside my clothes.
“Your fault.” He blew out a breath that tickled my throat. “If you had just let me be a friend.” His smile said he didn’t find this situation all that bad.
“A friend? That’s what you call it?”
He wiggled his eyebrows.
“Serves you right for trying to take advantage of my hormones.” I shook my head, realizing what I had admitted. “Unfortunately, as much as you deserve this, we can’t have you walking around attached to my chest until your hair falls out. We can argue over blame later.”
He relaxed his head. “I could stay like this forever.” He ran a finger down across my jaw down to my chin.
“Yeah, like I want you looking up my nose for the rest of my life. Could you please focus here?”
Witty. Now, hand me my phone.”
“Why?” Alarm raced through me, and my eyes popped wide open. We didn’t need witnesses to this debacle.
“I’m going to call my brother. See if he can help.”
“How the hell do you expect him to help?” It didn’t matter which brother he called; we would never hear the end of it.
“I don’t know, Lyr, but I’m out of ideas that won’t rip out my scalp.” For a guy with a fair amount of hair attached to my clothing, he was mighty calm.
“No way. One Laugherty man in this room is enough for one night.” I started to sit up, the motion of which pulled his hair. He pushed me against the pillows.
“Okay. Okay. I’ll call Lily, then.” It was either Lily or Mel, and I would rather die than have my sister find me in such a compromising position with her ex-boyfriend. Handing him his cell, I waited while he explained the situation to Lily. “She’ll be here in a minute.” He tossed the phone onto the mattress next to him. “There is a remote on the table that opens the door.”
“Why would they have that?”
“In case you don’t want to get out of bed to answer for room service.”
Chapter Twelve
A thousand intensely awkward minutes later, Lily arrived. A second after that, Dylan came in, followed by Ryan and his wife and then Max and Mel. Photos were snapped from every angle, and snickers were probably heard throughout the hotel.
“Wow, Lyric. You sure know how to dress to get a guy’s motor running.”
I flipped Dylan off. “Don’t judge me. He’s practically stealing second right in front of your face. How lucky are you getting tonight?”
“Touché.”
“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” I would have never guessed when I left home more than a decade earlier I would end up in a hotel room bantering with the Laugherty kids. But there I lay, in bed with one, while the others looked on. I found this moment of my life quite odd.
Lily worked on separating me from her brother. “Yeah, well, I have a very hot British guy in my bed. I was about to get lucky and would like to get back to it. So, shut up and let me work.” I couldn’t see her face, but knew from the laughter in her voice, she found the entire situation amusing.
“Sorry.” Our voices came together to form
“No, wise guy. You look like you were doing something you shouldn’t have been doing, and you got caught.” I couldn’t hide my smile. “Literally.”
“So funny.”
I shrugged in dramatic fashion, which pulled his head forward.
“Ow.”
“Sorry.” I considered our situation. “Maybe we could try to lower the zipper. See if we can work your hair free.”
“Okay.”
As I reached for the tab, he stopped me.
“Slow. This isn’t a Band-Aid we need to rip off. It’s my hair.”
“Right. Slow.” I inched my hand down lower and lower, closer to his head. Unfortunately, the hair entangled underneath and over the zipper. “This isn’t going to work.”
“I know. You’re killing me.” He sighed. “This is totally your fault, by the way.”
“My fault?” I’d been lying there, minding my own business. He was the one with his hand, and then his head, inside my clothes.
“Your fault.” He blew out a breath that tickled my throat. “If you had just let me be a friend.” His smile said he didn’t find this situation all that bad.
“A friend? That’s what you call it?”
He wiggled his eyebrows.
“Serves you right for trying to take advantage of my hormones.” I shook my head, realizing what I had admitted. “Unfortunately, as much as you deserve this, we can’t have you walking around attached to my chest until your hair falls out. We can argue over blame later.”
He relaxed his head. “I could stay like this forever.” He ran a finger down across my jaw down to my chin.
“Yeah, like I want you looking up my nose for the rest of my life. Could you please focus here?”
Witty. Now, hand me my phone.”
“Why?” Alarm raced through me, and my eyes popped wide open. We didn’t need witnesses to this debacle.
“I’m going to call my brother. See if he can help.”
“How the hell do you expect him to help?” It didn’t matter which brother he called; we would never hear the end of it.
“I don’t know, Lyr, but I’m out of ideas that won’t rip out my scalp.” For a guy with a fair amount of hair attached to my clothing, he was mighty calm.
“No way. One Laugherty man in this room is enough for one night.” I started to sit up, the motion of which pulled his hair. He pushed me against the pillows.
“Okay. Okay. I’ll call Lily, then.” It was either Lily or Mel, and I would rather die than have my sister find me in such a compromising position with her ex-boyfriend. Handing him his cell, I waited while he explained the situation to Lily. “She’ll be here in a minute.” He tossed the phone onto the mattress next to him. “There is a remote on the table that opens the door.”
“Why would they have that?”
“In case you don’t want to get out of bed to answer for room service.”
Chapter Twelve
A thousand intensely awkward minutes later, Lily arrived. A second after that, Dylan came in, followed by Ryan and his wife and then Max and Mel. Photos were snapped from every angle, and snickers were probably heard throughout the hotel.
“Wow, Lyric. You sure know how to dress to get a guy’s motor running.”
I flipped Dylan off. “Don’t judge me. He’s practically stealing second right in front of your face. How lucky are you getting tonight?”
“Touché.”
“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” I would have never guessed when I left home more than a decade earlier I would end up in a hotel room bantering with the Laugherty kids. But there I lay, in bed with one, while the others looked on. I found this moment of my life quite odd.
Lily worked on separating me from her brother. “Yeah, well, I have a very hot British guy in my bed. I was about to get lucky and would like to get back to it. So, shut up and let me work.” I couldn’t see her face, but knew from the laughter in her voice, she found the entire situation amusing.
“Sorry.” Our voices came together to form
Similar Books
