He stood, too, still wearing only his jeans, which sat low enough on his hips that she could see a strip of his hunter green underwear, the light dusting of hair that led down to his . . . well. Now she needed to avoid looking at his face or anywhere else on his body, so she directed her next comment to somewhere in the vicinity of the stuffed polar bear on the filing cabinet.
“And then we should try to figure out a way to get some sleep?” she said. “I may just try putting my head down at my desk . . . Dolores’ office is probably open if you wanted to do the same.”
“Lauren,” he said.
She gathered her purse, making sure her phone was inside. “I’ll be right back,” she said. She knew the phrase was relative. She’d be gone however long it took her to regain control, and at that moment, it didn’t feel like there were enough minutes in the world.
Chapter
Fourteen
Somewhere, he’d fucked up. He just couldn’t tell where.
He’d thought Lauren was with him every step of the way. She’d been shy at first, tentative about touching him, but he’d had no doubts that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.
He’d been shocked when she brought up the kiss. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it, since it happened. But she’d seemed so mortified at the time that it had been clear to him that the only way forward was to pretend like it never happened, put it in a box somewhere under the bed and only bring it out during the occasional night when he couldn’t sleep and wondered if she’d meant anything by it. He’d never imagined she might have a box of her own, that the memory of that kiss was more accessible than he thought.
And then tonight, when she’d said his name. He didn’t know if she realized it, but Lauren had never called him by his name to his face. Not once. Until she’d written that note on his fridge, he’d sometimes wondered if there was a chance she didn’t even know it.
Hearing her say it, and like that, her voice all breathy and low . . . well, he couldn’t think about it too much, or he’d have to take care of himself in the bathroom after all.
It had made his blood start to boil, the way she’d rushed to worrying about his satisfaction while writing off her own. It made him wonder if that was what she’d been taught to expect from sex, if previous boyfriends had gotten what they wanted and then left her to do the rest herself. It made him want to take his time with her.
He’d thought time was one thing that they had. He wasn’t oblivious—he knew that they were in a strange bubble tonight, that whatever was building here might not survive the light of day. But he’d had this vision of getting blankets from the gift shop and hunkering down in her office, finding more ways to get to know each other. He wouldn’t have minded just snuggling together under the blankets, making a corny joke about doing it for body heat in Cold World or some shit like that.
Now, something told him she was not in the mood to cuddle. She wouldn’t even look at him when she’d left.
Still, they would need to sleep. He decided to head to the bathroom to wash up and get ready for bed, and then maybe he’d grab those blankets from the gift shop after all. He might need double if they were going to make two beds. Add them to the tab.
* * *
? ? ?
By the time Lauren came back, he’d set up two makeshift sleeping areas—one behind her desk for her, with a folded blanket for a mattress and another one on top, a larger stuffed animal from the gift shop serving as a pillow. He’d made up his own similar arrangement just inside the doorway to the office. Not that he expected any nocturnal visitor—security or otherwise—but he figured it was better for him to be the first point of contact.
“I hope you don’t mind,” he said. “But I really don’t want to sleep in Dolores’ office. That would feel a little weird.”
“Oh,” she said, glancing around. “No, that’s fine. This looks really . . . Thanks for setting it up.”
“I’m also going to sleep in just my T-shirt and boxers,” he said. “If you wanted to strip down, I could give you some privacy . . . or we could get something from the gift shop.”
“I’m okay,” she said. She had a handful of silky black fabric balled up in her hand, and he realized it must be her bra. Catching his gaze on it, she flushed and crossed her arms over her chest, where her nipples had pebbled against the red fabric of her dress in the cold office.
He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck while he tried to look anywhere but at her. “I set my phone alarm for six,” he said. “I think security comes by around seven to do a morning sweep and disable the alarm, so that should give us time.”
She pulled her own phone out and tapped it a few times, cutting off the loud trill of her own alarm when it started to sound. “I set mine, too,” she said. “Just in case. We don’t want to be . . .”
She didn’t finish that sentence, but he could imagine what she was going to say. They didn’t want to be found sleeping together on the floor of her office. Even if they wouldn’t be together, per se. He didn’t particularly relish the idea of explaining all of this to their boss, either, but the dismissal in her voice still made something in his chest ache.
They both climbed into their makeshift beds, and he reached over to unplug the Christmas lights wrapped around the fake plant, leaving them with only the ambient glow from the lobby outside.
Her voice cut through the dark. “Asa?”
He closed his eyes. Eventually, he’d get used to hearing her say his name. But not yet. “Yeah?”
“Thank you for tonight,” she said in a rush, like she had to get the words out before she swallowed them back up. “Not just, you know, but . . . I really enjoyed playing the random number generator game with you.”
“Me, too.” He hesitated, wanting to address the elephant in the room, which she apparently wouldn’t even refer to directly. It would kill him if she regretted it.
But she swooped in before he could figure out what to say. “Do you think we could keep it all between us? Like What happens at Cold World stays at Cold World?”
He hadn’t exactly planned on kissing and telling. Although he probably would’ve run it by Kiki at some point—not all the details, but enough to try to find out what she might’ve heard from Lauren. But he also knew that what Lauren was really asking was whether they could leave this whole night behind in its bubble, and move forward like it had never happened.
“If that’s what you want,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said around a yawn. “God, I’m going to be wrecked tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Me, too.”
Eventually, he heard her breathing even out, and he knew she must’ve fallen asleep. It was a while before he joined her.
* * *
? ? ?
Wrecked was the understatement of the year. He’d convinced Lauren that he should stay and explain everything to the security guard, and later to Dolores, after Lauren had the chance to slip out the front door. It would be foolish—and practically impossible—to try to pretend like there hadn’t been anyone there that night. But there was no need for both of them to get in trouble, and the explanation was a lot cleaner if Asa just talked about his plan to hook up the faux snow machine and how it had gone awry.
They had a narrow window to pull it off. The security guard would need to open the building and disable the alarm, doing a quick walkthrough before locking it back up and leaving it for when Dolores arrived soon after. Asa and Lauren hid behind the front counter, waiting for the series of beeps that indicated the alarm had been turned off before she’d dart outside.
“You should just take the day off,” he said. At least his shift didn’t start until two, so he was planning on going home first and taking a big nap. Lauren only had enough time to go home to shower and change, and then was planning on turning right back around and coming into work.
“You heard Dolores at that meeting. No last-minute vacation requests until after the holidays.”
He frowned. “You can still call out sick. You need sleep.”