He frowned and shook his head. “That’s okay.”
“No, really. Besides, I’ll be more comfortable on a couch than any of you guys.” She rounded the counter. “Let me just grab my stuff.” Without waiting for his response, she made her way down the hall. Truth be told, the day had left her achy and beyond exhausted, but her brain was still going a million miles a minute. Sleep wasn’t likely.
After she threw her bag on the bed, she quickly gathered her things, rolled them up, and stuffed them inside. She grabbed her pillow and straightened the bedding, then turned to leave.
Nick stood in the doorway, muscled arms braced on each side of the molding. “You should keep your bed.”
For a moment, she was too dumbstruck by the sliver of skin that appeared between the bottom of his shirt and the top of his jeans to respond. She’d seen the full glory of his chest, of course, so why she found that strip of abdomen so alluring, she didn’t know. Maybe because it tempted her to lift the rest of the cotton away? “Um, why?” she managed. “It’s fine.”
Something flickered behind his eyes. “You’ve been through a helluva lot today, Becca. Whatever this is, it’s only just begun. You need rest to deal with it.”
His concern made her smile. She crossed the room to him, pushed up onto tiptoes, and pressed her lips to his jaw. “Thank you for wanting to take care of me. I’ll be fine on the couch, though. Promise.”
“I do.” His gaze connected with hers, warm and intense, and he lowered his arms.
“What?” she asked, hiking the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder.
Nick’s brow furrowed, and for a moment he looked away, like he was grappling with the words. Finally, his eyes were back on hers. “Want to take care of you.” His jaw ticked. “When that guy had you . . . and then you were bleeding . . .” He shook his head.
Her heart squeezed with affection for him. No, not just affection, something bigger, deeper. How could she have known him for only a few days, when it felt like it had surely been so much longer? Becca cupped the hard angle of his jaw. “I don’t like seeing you hurt, either.” Her thumb stroked over his cheek, just south of the red swelling around his busted cheekbone. Tape on his face, the skin around his right eye bruising, stubble covering his jaw and chin . . . God, he was beautiful in all his rough edges, utterly appealing. Suddenly, it was too much, and she was too close. Dropping her hand, she stepped back. “Between your cheek and my forehead, we’re a pair, aren’t we?”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Yeah.” Then his expression went serious again. “If you won’t sleep here, then take my bed.”
His bed? “Uh, but I—”
“It’ll give you more privacy. I saw what you slept in the other night, remember? And I’d rather these meatheads didn’t.”
The tone of his voice might’ve sounded playful if it hadn’t been for the dark glint in his eyes. Was that jealousy? Protectiveness? Both had her heart kicking up in her chest. “Where were you planning to sleep, anyway?”
“Couch in my office.”
“Oh.” Why did that news unleash a flicker of disappointment inside her? “But I was trying to give one of the guys a bed. You know, maybe make them a little less cranky.”
His lips twitched again. “I know you were. But they could sleep standing up if they had to. They’ll be fine. I’m not worried about them.”
But he was worried about her. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, but instead she just shrugged. “Just tell me where you want me, then.”
“In my bed.” His eyes went molten.
So boldly stated, the words dragged over her skin and heated her blood. “I set myself up for that one, didn’t I?”
It was the closest thing to a real smile she’d seen from him. And it was lethally sexy. He just nodded.
A few moments later, she made her way to Nick’s connected office and bedroom. Curiosity flowed through her as she stepped inside. An overstuffed dark blue couch, the kind that sucked you right into its cushiness, filled one wall, and a flat-screen TV hung opposite. Magazines were stacked on top of a small bookshelf packed with titles she couldn’t make out. The desk had an organizer full of forms and files, and a laptop sat open but dark in the center. A sketchbook lay on the corner, some sort of line drawing just visible in the diffuse glow of the hall light.