Michael was now moving closer. He was close enough to touch now, and Philip’s fingers prickled with the urge to reach for him. He wanted to see if Michael was as solid as he looked. But instead, Philip leaned over and picked up his bag, stepping back from Michael.
“I…” He cleared his throat. “I’ll go and get myself sorted in the bedroom. I…”
“We’ll sort things out here.” Michael didn’t blink as Philip backed away. “It’s your holiday, after all.”
Philip mumbled something, he wasn’t quite sure what, and then he stumbled toward the bedrooms. The first door he came to was a bedroom, and Philip sagged onto the bed, his heart racing. What the hell was wrong with him? Just a moment ago, he was close to drooling over Michael, and now he was practically running away from him. Philip was not one to run away, especially not from someone so imposing. He had handled larger men at work; the bigger men were often the softest of people, although they certainly didn’t like to show it.