Falling for the Groomsman (Wedding Dare #1)(34)
Author: Diane Alberts

“Did you unpack at all?” he asked, smoothing his hair.

“Yeah.” She looked around her, blinking. “Uh, why?”

“There’s nothing out. Where your stuff? Perfume, makeup? Clothes?”

“Oh.” She flushed. “It’s all in the bathroom, and my clothes are in the closet. My suitcase, too. I like to keep things organized. When I get to my room, I take the first hour to unpack.”

He nodded, not sure why he was talking about this stupid shit when there was so much more to say. But maybe that was the problem. There was so much left unsaid that he didn’t even know where to begin. He crossed the room to the ice bucket. “I’ll be right back.”

“You don’t have to come back. I’ll be fine alone.”

He froze with his hand on the bucket, his left hand gripping the table edge so tightly he was surprised it didn’t crack from the pressure. She was so eager to be done with him that she couldn’t wait to shove him out the door. He’d be lying if he said that her willingness to get rid of him didn’t hurt. “I’m getting some ice for your ankle. I’m going to put it in a bag and set it on your injury. Once I’m done, and only once I’m done, I’ll leave you alone.”

He grabbed her key and the ice bucket, and slammed the door shut behind him. He headed down the deserted corridor toward the ice. He should have kept his hands to himself. No, that wasn’t true. He didn’t regret what they’d done. That was just the frustration talking. They were both exhausted and they both needed a few hours of sleep.

Later tonight, he’d talk to her again.

Try to find a way to ask her if she’d be interested in taking this a step further after the wedding was over. Hell, he was even considering the impossible: changing his life for her. To be with her. He was willing to try just about anything…if she was. But right now? It didn’t seem as if she was. It was probably just the exhaustion talking, though. They were both ready for some sleep. They both might be much more amicable to the type of conversation he had in mind after some R & R.

That decided, he called room service on his cell and ordered her some food. He also ordered himself some, but in his own room. As he filled the ice bucket, it occurred to him he didn’t have any Ziplocs, so he spent another ten minutes hunting one down. By the time he returned to Christine’s room, he half expected her to have fallen asleep.

But when he opened the door, she sat up and smoothed the blanket over her lap. Her wet hair was pulled back in a flawless ponytail, and all the traces of dirt were gone from her face. She’d showered. Just the thought of her standing under a stream of water was enough to make his mouth go dry, so he forced himself to focus on the other aspect of her showering. “You should have waited for me to help you.”

“For what? A shower?” She arched a brow. “I think I can handle it myself. I’ve been doing it on my own since I was five.”

He gritted his teeth, his exhaustion heightening his frustration. “You could’ve slipped.”

“But I didn’t.” She tilted her chin up in the air, her nostrils flaring. “Stop worrying about me so freaking much. I’m not your problem, Tyler.”

He set the ice down hard. “Yeah, you’ve made that clear. But it doesn’t stop me from worrying about your well-being. I care.” Yep. He totally threw her words from last night back in her face. “And you can’t make me stop.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t,” she said, her voice so soft he barely heard it.

Ignoring her, he peeled the blanket off of her, grabbed an extra pillow, and gently lifted her leg. After putting the pillow under her ankle, he laid the ice over her swollen ankle. Probing it a little bit, he nodded in satisfaction. It already looked better than it had last night. The swelling had gone down. “Make sure you keep it elevated, okay?”

She squirmed under his touch. “I will.”

“Good.” He ran his fingers over the swollen ankle and lifted the blanket back over her. “And no dancing tonight.”

She sighed. “Yes, Doc.”

He grabbed a bottle of water off the table next to the bed. After opening it, he handed it to her. “And you should hydrate, too. It was a long night.”

“On it.” She lifted the bottle up and raised it to her lips. Her hand trembled as she drank. She was worn out and needed rest. It was time to go before he said something he regretted. At the doorway, he hesitated, one foot in and one foot out. “I ordered you some food. I’ll leave the door open so they can get in without you getting up. After you eat, get some sleep.”

“Thanks for ordering the food. That was…” She hesitated, as if unsure what to say, and settled on, “Sweet.”

“Call me if you need anything.”

“I’ll be okay.”

He nodded and opened the door, making sure to slide the metal lock in between the door and the jamb so it wouldn’t latch. And then? He went against every instinct inside him and left her alone.

Just like she so obviously wanted.

Chapter Fifteen

A few hours later, Tyler stood in the crowded ballroom and rubbed his eyes. The orchestra performed quietly, and he could barely manage to keep his eyes open thanks to the lullaby tune they played. Would it be so much to ask for an upbeat salsa or the f**king Macarena? Maybe something that didn’t make him want to find the nearest bed and sleep for the rest of the week.

He scanned the room and hid a yawn behind his hand. Everyone looked like they were either bored, tired, drunk, or all three. The only person who looked like they even cared about this damn thing was Julie, and even she looked as if she were forcing the never-ending enthusiasm she always sported. Hell, even Kady wasn’t there yet—and neither was Colt. If the bride and groom couldn’t bother to show up on time, why should they?

Brock elbowed him in the ribs. “If you yawn one more time, I might forget my good manners and punch you right in the teeth. I’m exhausted enough as it is without you trying to catch flies over there.”

Tyler snapped his mouth shut on another yawn. “I can’t seem to control it.” As if on cue, he yawned again, earning another scowl from Brock. “Sorry.”

“You’re not the only one.” Brock inclined his head toward Christine, who yawned and covered her mouth. “She looks as if she’s about to tip out of her chair,” Brock said. “She better not fall asleep in that thing, or she might hurt an elbow, too.”