“She means—”
The ding announcing we’ve reached a floor interrupts me and I groan when I realise it must be their stop.
The lady places her hand on Charlotte’s arm. “You take care, dear. Don’t let anyone tell you that you are anything but beautiful.”
Tears gather in Charlotte’s eyes. “That is so sweet of you,” she blubbers.
She stops next to me and my insides turn at her approach. “You should be ashamed of yourself, young man. If you were a few feet smaller I’d have your hide,” she threatens. “Treat her better.”
“But I—”
The man steps up next, gently pushing his wife forward. “If you were my boy, I’d have clipped you round the earhole.”
“But I…” He walks away, not letting me finish, and my shoulders slump. Great, now they think I’m an abusive arsehole.
Charlotte falls against me, hugging me around the waist. “Weren’t they the best people?”
“Yeah,” I grumble, wondering if I have time to find them and change their minds about me.
The lift doors shut and moments later, they open again. “Tell me again what we’re doing.”
“Let’s just get it done. The party is nearly over and we don’t want your mum catching us in the act.”
“You know what, fuck it. She’s been difficult all evening.”
She nods enthusiastically. “If only we had Eloise’s room number. We could scare her into leaving the hotel and we won’t need to see her again.”
I chuckle. “You were the one who accepted her breakfast invitation.”
She groans. “It’s a curse. I don’t like saying no to people.”
“She wasn’t asking you.”
She smacks me on the shoulder. “I know that, silly, but it was fun watching her reaction.”
We head down the next hall, checking the door numbers as we go. “This is it.”
She pulls the card from out of her dress and opens the door. The beep echoes and Charlotte freezes, glancing at me over her shoulder. “Shush.”
“I didn’t make a noise.”
“For this to work, it has to be done right. Make sure you get the fridge. They’ll have either small ketchup bottles or sachets. I’ll get the body ready.”
I twist my lips warily. “We aren’t actually killing someone?”
She laughs, poking me in the bicep. “Oh, my lord. I’m not a murderer. But my uncle made up a fake dead body with bedsheets one time and put it in bed with my dad. According to my uncles, there were tears, piss, and a lot of screaming, but according to my dad, he just jumped a little.”
It smells like my mother’s perfume as we head inside the main room. Trust my mum to get a suite that’s bigger than my flat.
“Jesus,” I hiss out, seeing the champagne bottle on the side.
“They are totally having—”
I place my hand over her mouth before she can traumatise me for life. “No. We do not speak of that.”
She giggles and steps away. “It’s a natural thing.”
“Nope. Lalalalala,” I sing as I grab the champagne bottle. There is no way I’m leaving this here. I place it on the side next to the door. “We’ll take this with us.”
“I’m going to get the bed ready,” she tells me, heading into the master bedroom.
My gaze scans the room, finding my mother’s things in place like she’s making a home for a year instead of the night. If it were me, I wouldn’t have bothered unpacking. I’d just grab what I need when I needed it.
The pristine room is triggering. Suddenly I’m having childhood flashbacks of Mum telling me to have my room cleaned in a certain way, and I want to rebel.
A grown-arse man and I’m acting like a child.
Fuck it.
I have years of pent-up anger when it comes to my mum and her strict rules and expectations.
Heading over to the picture on the wall, I look at it before pulling it off and rehanging it upside down, then do the same with the other pictures in the room. By the time I’m done rearranging the room, I have a massive grin on my face. My mother is going to pitch a fit when she walks inside. The room isn’t trashed, far from it, but the things out of place are going to have her losing her mind.
Charlotte comes out of the bedroom, bumping into the wall. “All done.”
A wider grin spreads across my face as I walk past her, ducking my head into the room. I burst out laughing at the bedsheet she’s stuffed with something to form a figure of a body. It’s tied in places with the ties from a dressing gown. “She is going to freak.”
“Let’s go before she gets back.”
We rush out of the room and I barely slow down quick enough to grab the bottle off the side.
“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” I tell her, as I open the bottle.
“I’ve had a lot of fun. More fun than I’ve had since the night we found Cluck.”
“Cluck?”
She waves me off. “It was a misunderstanding and not important.”
“Okay…”
“What floor is our room on?”
“Two down from this one,” I declare, pressing the button to call the elevator. When the door opens moments later, I can’t help but touch her. I rest my hand on the bottom of her back, leading her into the elevator. She shivers as we come to a stop inside the door.
I slide my hand across her back before leaning over and pressing the button to our floor.
The champagne tastes sweet on my tongue as I gulp a large amount down.
All night I have been hyperaware of her. Every move, every touch, every brush of her body against mine. However, now we’re alone, about to go back to our room, it’s like my body is on another frequency and all I can sense is her. I’m trying really hard to be a gentleman.
Her fingers brush mine and she inhales sharply. “I wish we could see your mum’s face,” she tells me as the elevator comes to a stop. There’s a yap as the doors slide open. “Puppy!”
My lips twitch as she steps out, bending down to the puppy and giving him a lot of fuss.
“He likes you,” the puppy’s owner tells her.
She looks up at him, her smile bright, beautiful. It’s one of those smiles you can’t help but return. “He’s friendly. What’s his name?”
“Ted.”
I clear my throat to cover up my snort. Charlotte looks up, her nose twitching. “I told you to get that looked at.”
“She’s always bossing me around,” I tell the guy, who’s eyeing her up like a man after his prey.
Wanker.
His eyes widen when he finally pulls his attention away from Charlotte’s legs, probably wondering if he could get a glimpse of what she’s wearing under her dress. His mouth opens then closes, and I smirk, enjoying his discomfort.
“You like it,” she teases, getting to her feet after patting the dog one more time.
“Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” he tells me.
I just bet he didn’t.
“He’s pretty hard to miss,” Charlotte blurts out, as I slip my fingers through hers.
I tense a little, wondering what compelled me to do it, but I have no answers. Not even with previous girlfriends had I done any kind of public display of affection.