His expression didn’t change, but something behind his eyes did. Something quieter. Sharper. “Believing what?” he asked.
I let out a small, sullen breath. “That any of this is real.”
Another moment stretched between us. Long enough that I was suddenly very aware of how close we were standing. Of the way the room felt smaller than it had just minutes before.Of the fact that I had absolutely no idea how this man thought, reacted, existed outside of headlines and a two-hour meeting.
He watched me like he was trying to decide if I meant it.
Finally—“That won’t be a problem,” he snickered.
Something in my chest tightened.
“Good,” I threw back.
Neither of us moved.
I cleared my throat, forcing myself back onto steadier ground. “And if something goes sideways—media, public, whatever—and I say we leave…”
His gaze sharpened again.
“…we leave,” I finished.
“And if I don’t want to?” he asked, eyes narrowing.
I held his gaze a second longer than I probably should have. “Then you can not want to somewhere else.”
Something shifted at the corner of his mouth, lingering just long enough to make my pulse trip.
“Fine,” he growled.
The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It pressed in. Heavy. Aware. Like the room had clocked something we hadn’t said out loud.
And then reality caught up. My eyes flicked, traitorous, to the bedroom. Then to the couch.
Alois followed the movement without turning his head fully, like he didn’t need to. Like he already knew what I was seeing.
One bed. One very small couch.
“I can take the couch,” I stuttered quickly, before my brain could spiral into anything worse.
His gaze slid back to mine. “No.”
I blinked. “It’s my couch.”
“You live here,” he reminded, like that was the entire argument.
“Which is why I’m offering?—”
“No,” he repeated, quieter this time, but somehow more final.
“You want to sleep on my couch?”
“Not in the slightest,” he spit out a little too quickly.
My eyes narrowed. “You don’t get to insult my furniture and refuse it.”
“I’m not insulting it,” he groaned, glancing at the couch. “We’re adults,” he continued, like he was stating something obvious. “We can both sleep in your bed.”
I stared at him. “That is not a solution.”