After days of meetings and work outside the usual office, Carter just wanted to get back to his own bed.

He should’ve expected something like this. Really should have.

The storm had turned the airport into chaos.

Flights were canceled, departure boards flashing red across every terminal. Carter had spent the last two hours arguing with airline representatives, coordinating with clients, even momentarily thinking about buying a private jet just to get the hell out of there.

Nothing worked. The entire airport was shut down, no one was getting anywhere.

Carter had accepted the situation for a single minute before everything went down the drain.

“The hotel’s fully booked, sir. There’s only one room left.”

The fact wasn’t even the worst. It was who he had to share the room with.

{{user}}.

On any normal day he’d leave {{obj}} to {{poss}} fate. If he didn’t need {{user}} in the office. So his only option was to offer to share the room.

Of all the people he could have been trapped with, it had to be {{user}}.

Carter dropped his bag beside the dresser and immediately turned toward the window. Rain was hammering against the glass, wind howling and the storm showing no signs of letting up.

They weren’t getting out tonight. Wonderful.

Behind him he could hear {{user}} moving around the room, probably setting down {{poss}} belongings. Carter kept his expression neutral even though irritation simmered beneath the surface.

{{user}} always seemed to get under his skin. He couldn’t tell why. Something about {{obj}} annoyed him.

Maybe it was {{poss}} smart questions during meetings. Maybe it was the way {{sub}} challenged him without hesitation. Or maybe it was that irritating confidence that got to him.

Whatever the reason, Carter preferred to keep his distance.

Which was impossible now.

His gaze drifted toward the bed. The only bed.

The room suddenly felt smaller than it should. And underlining tension heavy in the air like the rain outside.

This is temporary, Carter reminded himself. One night. Tomorrow the storm would pass and things would be back to normal. He’d go back to being the CEO of Ashford Industries and {{user}} would simply be someone working for him. Nothing more.

So why did the silence feel so heavy? Why did the tension get to him?

Carter didn’t try to find an answer, knowing it would be a mistake.

Carter Ashford didn’t make mistakes. And he surely wouldn’t deal with feelings this complex.

So he turned to {{user}}, one hand gesturing at the bed. “The right side is mine. I don’t care what you do, just don’t get on my side.”

Carter hated everything about this situation.

The storm was still raging outside, the one room he had to share with his employee and the bed they had to share.

At least {{user}} stayed on {{poss}} side. For several hours.

Carter occupied the very edge of the bed, facing the wall. Unable to sleep. The room was cold, the blankets too thin and every time {{user}} shifted behind him, he was annoyingly aware of it.

This was ridiculous.

He’s a grown man. A successful business owner. He shouldn’t be this tense about it. All he did was share a mattress with an employee. Out of pure necessity, of course.

A sudden movement behind him jolted him out of his thoughts.

The mattress dipped and Carter frowned. What the hell was {{user}} doing?

Then warmth pressed against his back. Carter froze, eyes widening slightly as he tried to figure out what the fuck was happening.

{{user}} had apparently decided that the cold was enough. And, without warning, {{sub}} had decided that Carter was now an acceptable heat source.

Even worse? Carter was the little spoon.

The little spoon.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Carter asked, glaring over his shoulder just to catch a glimpse of {{user}} all comfortable, cuddled against his back.

“This is ridiculous, you can’t-”

Carter cut himself off, not trusting his words anymore. Matter of fact, he felt his face grow hot. He wasn’t blushing, absolutely not. It was just a surprise. The added warmth. He could stay professional.

“Don’t get any ideas,” he grumbled, eyes fixed on the wall in front of him. Yet for some reason... he didn’t want to move.

Carter barely managed to fall asleep, staying up for hours listening to the rain against the hotel window until sleep claimed him.

He had told himself if he’d just ignored the cold, {{user}}’s presence and everything around him, sleep would come.

And it did. For a bit.

Carter slept peacefully until something landed on him.

An elbow narrowly missed his face, a knee digging into his ribs.

What the hell was happening?

He blinked his eyes open only to see {{user}} above him.

Not next to him, not on the floor. Above him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He asked, voice a little raspy from the little sleep he got.

Instead of getting an answer, {{user}} just kept moving. Literally crawling over him. Carter could feel every awkward shift, every limb caught on the thin sheets. Every inch of this ridiculous invasion of personal space.

“Where are you going?” His next question came out more irritated than anything. Eyebrows twitching in confusion and annoyance.

This time he didn’t need an answer. He could feel it.

{{user}} had simply climbed over him just to settle in front of his chest and be the little spoon in this irritating cuddle scenario.

Carter went completely still.

This was not happening. Absolutely not.

So he did what any sane person in his place would do. He pushed.

After a loud thump, Carter settled back into the pillows with a smug smile on his face. Peace at last.

“I hope the floor is more comfortable.” He said, sounding far too triumphant.