Junk Mail(31)

She laughs again, wrapping her arms around my waist. “Oh, I will. But for now, please tell me you’ll sleep up here and not in that certifiable death trap downstairs?”

“Only if you’re not going to make me sleep on the floor.”

“I think the bed’s big enough for us both. Don’t you?”

As Peyton claims the bathroom to get ready for bed, I strip down to my boxers and find my usual spot on the left side of the mattress.

It’s weird to think about all the nights I’ve spent alone in this same hotel room, this same hotel bed. I’m here at least once a month for either family or business, and I’ve never even had anyone else in the room with me. Hotel room 1875 has been my own personal space, my little bit of territory in a town so entirely different from New York City.

But when Peyton struts out of the bathroom, makeup-free and sleepy-eyed in an oversized T-shirt, I feel so fucking lucky that she’s going to be stealing my covers tonight.





Chapter Seventeen


Peyton



It may have taken a few glasses of wine and a trip upstate, but Josh and I finally talked things out. Well, we did a little more than talk last night. But the point is, the night in the hotel coat closet is no longer a big question mark in my brain anymore. And now that I don’t have to overanalyze every word out of his oh-so-delectable lips, I can prioritize the business part of this business trip.

At least, that’s what I told myself last night.

After Josh agreed that we shouldn’t take things any further, I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and fell asleep, promising myself that I’d start the next day with a fresh perspective. Yes, my crush on Josh is one hundred percent reciprocated, but he’s also one hundred percent my business partner, and it’s a relief that we both agreed to put the romance stuff on the back burner.

But now, in our third and final meeting of the day, I’m not sure if things are better or worse than before. As Josh reviews the timeline for the Wish Upon a Gift collaboration to a conference table of investors, I hardly catch every fifth or sixth word out of his mouth. That gorgeous mouth. When Josh speaks, he commands the attention of everyone in the room. Except for me. Because I know where that mouth really shines.

Shit. That’s the thing about the back burner—it still keeps things hot.

I hear the words “boutique personalization in a big-name store,” which I know is the cue for Brody to take the baton and wrap things up. It’s a pretty rehearsed process after three nearly identical pitches today. Like clockwork, Josh gives Brody the floor and takes his seat, his knee just barely brushing my thigh as he does.

And . . . cue the goose bumps.

Sheesh, Peyton. It’s just a knee. But it’s his knee. And that song from elementary school science class, the one that helped us learn the bones of the body, starts playing in my head.

The knee bone’s connected to the thigh bone. And between the thigh bones . . .

“Great work today, Peyton. Three pitches in a day can be a lot.”

Heat floods my cheeks as I stand to shake Brody’s hand. “Thanks,” I manage to say, blinking my way out of my fantasy. “Third time’s the charm, right?”

“I think you charmed them on all three.” Josh shoots me a wink, and the heat in my cheeks moves south.

“Well, the product really sells itself,” I say, shifting my attention to packing up my portfolio of samples. “But it seems like these investors were especially into how customizable the gifts can be. Don’t you agree?”

Nothing like a little business talk to bring the hormones back from the ledge.

Deep breaths, Peyton.

The last of the investors file out of the room, and Toby, Brody, Josh, and I are right behind them, headed toward our two rental cars. We’ve got a few hours before we need to head to the airport, but Toby and Brody have plans to grab a drink with an old coworker, leaving Josh and me with an afternoon to ourselves. And since checkout was at noon, we have no hotel room to return to. Which I’m slightly relieved by.

Josh ditches his suit jacket and tie, tossing both in the back seat of the rental with our luggage. He looks so incredibly sexy in just a button-up, his chiseled pecs on display through the fitted fabric. Sadly, I don’t get too much time to stare. He climbs into the car and I join him, although I have no idea where he’s planning to take us. But then Josh turns out of the parking lot and takes off on the highway, heading in the direction of the airport. Maybe we’re just going to kill time at the terminal.

“You really crushed it today, Peyton. We were all totally impressed. Brody wasn’t just saying that.”

“I’m flattered. But I don’t think I would’ve been half as good without you guys having my back.”

It’s the truth. As wildly distracting as Josh was during these meetings, he was also incredibly encouraging. All the guys were. Brody, Toby, and Josh couldn’t have been more supportive if they’d showed up at our meetings in cheerleader uniforms, shaking pom-poms as I pitched. I can’t help but giggle at the thought.

“What’s so funny?” Josh asks, shooting me a suspicious smile.

“Oh, nothing.” A satisfied grin lifts my lips as I redirect my attention to the road. “Just a funny thought.”

“Here’s another funny thought,” he says. “Since we have some time on our hands, want to pay a visit to some of the craziest kids I know?”