“I wish you’d eat yourself.” I lean back into the cab of the truck and snatch up the gift bag that is easily a couple years old. The color is faded, the plastic tab on top is wilted and yellowed.
Pressing the package to my chest, I close the truck door again and meet Luke at the front. “You can wait here while I run in and get dressed.”
He scoffs and throws his arm over my shoulders again. “You’re insane if you think I’m not following you in. I’ve been waiting weeks to see you in your panties. Most girls give this shit up within the hour.”
“Charming,” I drawl and head toward the front door. “I’m glad you’ve bedded so many women in your short adult life that you have a bar to which you can compare me to ‘most girls’. You sure know how to make my heart go pitter-patter.”
“First of all, I was bedding women long before I was an adult.” He looks down and grins with such smugness that I’m tempted to ball my fist and show him what it looks like to lose a fight for once. “And second, you outshine them all, Allyson. You’re classy and beautiful and have a spine of steel. You’re gutsy, and you’re a thief – what, with stealing Chester while drunk.”
“I’m not entirely convinced I had anything to do with that. I do not remember it, so…”
“Lucky that I planned ahead.” He takes out his phone again, swipes to the gallery app, and just a moment later, as we head through the hotel doors and straight toward the stairs, he hits play on a video that could end my career before it even begins.
My drunken giggles echo around the concrete stairwell. My squeals of delight, and then my snorting laughter.
“I’m riding the llama?” I groan and look away from the horrifying video. “Not only did I steal it, but I rode it while you pulled us along the street?”
“You were soooo drunk,” he chuckles. “Drunk-Ally is funny as fuck. Sober-Ally is a wannabe-therapist, way too serious for her own health.”
“Drunk-me is a criminal who deserves to lose her license to practice.”
“Good thing you don’t have the license, then.” He looks up when we stop at the second-floor doorway that will lead into the hall. “Which floor is yours?”
“This one.”
I push the security door open and lethargically lead us into the parquet hall that would have looked nice when it was new – seventy years ago. Paintings hang on the walls, but all are cheap prints. Long rugs line the middle of the hall, but the brown they are now, I suspect, isn’t the color they were when they were new. This hotel boasts around twenty-five rooms, so we only have to walk the hall for a moment before we stop at my door and I slide the key in.
Thanks to Luke, I now think about intruders and what would happen if someone let themselves in while I slept.
“You’ve officially creeped me out, by the way.” I step into my room, and drop my key into a little blue bowl just by the door.
“Well, you ain’t the first woman to say that to me. It could be considered a badge of honor, really.”
“No, it can’t.” I set the small gift on the table beside the blue bowl, and though my curiosity is beating at me to open it, I can’t, so I walk away and step out of my heels as I go. “And I meant because of room security. I wasn’t worried before, but now I can’t stop seeing some creep letting themselves in while I sleep. You’ve ruined this whole space for me.”
He follows me in and watches me with none of the sarcasm I’ve come to know, and none of the glee or teasing. Rather, he watches me with a general kindness that feels like a hug. “I didn’t mean to make you scared. I just worry, and soon, folks will notice you’re always here. They’ll notice you’re alone, and they’ll see which floor you’re on. You’re very beautiful, Ally. And you’re clearly not a local. You’re alone, and you wouldn’t know who to call if something was wrong.”
“I would call my mother.”
“She lives an hour away. What exactly do you think she could do to help you?”
I shrug and cross my room to the closet. I hung my clothes the day I moved in. My suits, my skirts. My jeans and tops for the weekends. “I would call the police.”
“Good step,” he murmurs. “They would help. But in your mind, that call to 9-1-1 wouldn’t feel personal or comforting. It would feel routine, and you’d still feel alone.”
“So what do you suggest, huh? I’m here till Christmas, unless we can’t return Chester unnoticed, in which case, problem solved. I’ll be gone tomorrow.”
He snorts. “We’ll get Chester home, don’t worry. This shit is a cakewalk for me. But also, I have a suggestion for you.”
He crosses to the desk beside where a modest flatscreen TV rests on the wall. Grabbing the hotel stationery, he writes numbers onto the notepad and tears the sheet away when he’s done. Walking to me, he waits for me to turn away from my closet, then takes my hand and places the paper on my palm.
“I’m giving you my number, rather than me asking for yours. That means, until you call me, I won’t have a way to bother you, or text the inaugural booty call message at three a.m.”
“Inaugural? Really?”
“It’s inevitable.” He grins. “You have the power, Ally. You don’t have to call or text any time. Not until you need me. But I promise, when you do, I’ll be here fast. I could run here in just minutes. In fact, it would be quicker to sprint than it would to get in my car and follow road laws.”
He closes my hand around the paper and smiles. “If you find yourself in trouble, you only have to call or text. Then you have to hold on for just a couple minutes. After that, I’ll take care of it for you.” He folds his neck a little further and waits for me to meet his eyes. “Deal?”
I swallow the lump of nerves that have settled in my throat. My heart flutters like a hummingbird’s wings, and because of that, my blood pumps fast, heady and intoxicating.
“Ally?” he presses on a gravelly murmur. “Deal?”
I nod, and lick my dry lips. “Okay. Deal.”
He flashes a wide grin and drops that sincere, caring guy he was a second ago, and picks up his playboy act. “Perfect. Now get changed.” He goes and sits on the end of my tidily made bed, bounces around a little, then opens his legs wide. “I’m gonna enjoy the shit out of this show.”
“You’re a pig.”
I turn back to my closet and take out a top that clings to my curves and somewhat pushes my boobs up. I don’t mean to find something quite so provocative, but it’s black, and it’s the look we’re going for, right?
I remain facing the closet, with my back to Luke, and pulling my work top up, I drop it to the floor and shrug into the black one.
“You were supposed to turn around for that,” he grumbles and makes me smile.
Fortunately for me, he can’t see my face.
I unsnap my skirt, and reach around to the side to lower the zipper. Taking a deep breath, I push it down and pray I don’t come to regret this moment.
Though of course, I do.
“Fuckkkk…” Luke groans behind me, and rearranges himself on my bed.
I wish I could pass it off as obnoxious leering, but my throbbing pulse says otherwise. He sees my ass, my thighs, my everything, except the skin my cheeky panties cover.