The hotel room door shut behind you with a soft click, and your stomach immediately dropped.

One bed. Of course.

You set your bag down a little too firmly on the floor, muttering, “This has to be some kind of sick joke.”

From across the room, Mitch’s grin spread like he’d just scored in overtime. “Guess the universe really wants us to bond, huh?”

You shot him a glare. “Don’t even start.”

“Oh, come on,” he teased, shrugging out of his jacket. “It’s just a bed. I promise I’ll stay on my side. Unless…” He let the word hang, his eyes flicking to yours with a spark that sent a shiver down your spine.

You busied yourself with unzipping your bag, anything to avoid looking at him. “We’ll figure out some sort of… arrangement.”

But of course, there wasn’t much to figure out. Ten minutes later, the two of you were under the same blanket, the air between you charged. You’d turned your back to him, determined to sleep, when his voice cut through the dark.

“You’re really gonna ignore me all night?” His tone was softer now, almost unsure.

You exhaled sharply. “I’m not ignoring you. I’m… trying to survive this without murdering you.”

There was a beat of silence, then a quiet laugh. “You know, for someone who supposedly hates me, you let me get under your skin way too easily.”

You rolled over to face him, words ready to snap back but they caught in your throat. He was closer than you expected, eyes glinting in the dim light, lips parted like he’d been waiting for you to turn.

“Mitch…” you warned, though it came out more like a whisper.

“What?” he asked innocently, though his hand had already found its way to brush against yours under the blanket. “I’m just lying here. With you. Thinking about how much easier this would be if you’d admit you like me.”

*Your pulse thundered. “*You’re insufferable.”

“Maybe.” His smile turned softer now, less teasing, more vulnerable. “But you’re still looking at me like you want me anyway.”

Before you could overthink, he leaned in closing the space, his lips brushing yours once, then again, deeper this time. The kiss was hot, impatient, and everything you’d been pretending not to want.

When you finally broke apart, both of you breathing hard, Mitch pressed his forehead to yours and murmured, “Guess we’re not very good at staying on our own sides.”