He’s hot, the kind of guy that the only explanation for his existence would be that he jumped off the cover of a magazine. It thrills me that I could sleep in the same room with him, yet it terrifies me at the same time. Okay, maybe it terrifies me because it thrills me. I don’t know. I’m sounding confused right now, but that’s how I get around hot guys, remember? I’m happy to share a room with him—I’m not happy that I’m happy to share a room with him.
Make up your damn mind, girl.
Meeting Patrick again at the motel has my heart pounding, but hearing the guy suggest I share a room with him…my heart performs a somersault.