The Player Hater (Accidentally in Love 1)

Or closer.

Davis moves closer, too.

He really is scared and doesn’t bother hiding it.

Taking pity on us both, I relent with a resigned sigh. “Okay Davis, you can sleep in the bedroom with me.”

It’s all the invitation he needs.

He snatches up his little blanket, making a quick beeline for the bedroom at the back of the camper, barely missing a step and practically flying through the air as fear propels him.

His feet barely touch the ground when he flies onto the mattress.

With a roll of my eyes, I move to close and lock the screen door, remembering to turn off the bathroom light on my way past, basically shutting down the camper all over again for our second attempt at bedtime.

I find Davis sitting on the right side when I make it back to the bedroom; he hasn’t gotten under the covers yet, watching me enter the doorway, gesturing to the right side then the left.

“I wasn’t sure which side you wanted me on.”

I shrug, nerves fluttering in my stomach. “Whichever side is fine, I can sleep on either, it doesn’t matter.”

He nods again before folding back the covers on the side he’s already on, sliding his legs under. At least, that’s what it seems like he’s doing—I can only see his silhouette in the dark, listen to the sound of the rustling sheets.

It feels foreign climbing into bed beside him, but my heart is racing at the same time, excited.

This feels exciting.

I’ve been thinking about his lips and his eyes and how tall he is all damn weekend, this enigma of a man I was prepared to hate but don’t dislike at all, not even a little, and now I’m climbing into bed with him.

So what if he currently only has one eyebrow, he’s still fucking gorgeous.

How on earth will I ever sleep?

Outside, there is more noise, but this time I’m convinced it’s rattling from the wind and nothing more.

Davis doesn’t concur, scooching across the bed to be comforted until our shoulders touch.

“Oh my god—hold me.”

He’s now encroaching on my side faster than I can flip a light switch.

I can’t stop the nervous laughter bubbling out of me. “You’re not being serious right now.”

I don’t mind him wanting to be enveloped in a hug or held; not the least or even a little bit.

“I am.” With the sliver of light shining through the narrow bedroom window, I see that his eyes are wide and terrified. “If I had a woobie or a blanket right now I’d be sucking my thumb.” The laugh is punctuated by trembling and I feel a pang of sympathy for the poor guy.

Instead of sounding concerned, however, I ask, “What the hell is a woobie?”

I feel Davis shrugging closely beside me. “A blanket. The yellow blanket I used to carry around when I was little—it had a rabbit head and it was my best friend.”

Aww. “Sounds like Linus from Snoopy.”

“Kind of. Never sucked my thumb, though I’m tempted to do it right now.” Davis laughs, his tone a bit less harried.

More calm.

“Hate to break it to you, Big Guy, but there’s no way I could protect you if an animal got through that door unless it was a squirrel, and even then, there’s a chance I’d be useless.”

Also: squirrels are pure evil out to take over the world and everyone knows it.

Everyone.

If you don’t think squirrels are out to get us, you’re a liar.

In fact, when I was in college our campus was littered with the beady eyed cretins; they would stare me down on my walk to class and I dreaded the day one decided he wanted to nest in my long hair.

*Shudder*

I relax, settling in, pulling the covers up and laying on my back staring at the ceiling as I’d done the night before; Davis does the same.

“Know what’s weird?” he asks into the dark.

“What?”

“Now that you mention squirrels, I don’t remember seeing any outside during the day. Isn’t that weird?”

That is weird and now that I’m thinking about it—he’s right. I haven’t seen many squirrels. “You would think they’d be everywhere since this is nature and all.”

Davis is quiet. Then, “Probably hiding out and waiting to strike.”

Ha! “Are you one of those people who believes they’re out to take over the world?”

“I’d call it a hostile takeover—those little bastards can’t be trusted.”

I nod. “I totally agree.”

“See, we do have a lot in common,” he tells me. “You like sleep, I like sleep. You don’t like squirrels, I don’t like squirrels.”

That assessment makes me laugh. “I hope that’s not where the similarities end—hating squirrels isn’t a commonality I’d brag about.”

“True.”

Beside me, Davis shifts his large body, our legs knocking together as he tries to get comfortable.

“Sorry.”

I smile in the dark. “Don’t apologize.”

Something about the circumstances of tonight—the humor of Davis singeing his eyebrows off, how funny it is that he feels security being near me when he thinks there are bears outside ready to attack him (as if I could save us), being here in the woods, being secluded… it all has me feeling a certain kind of way.