Well, now I just felt like shit. Nevertheless, Scarlett and I headed up to our rooms. She went to change in hers, and fifteen minutes later knocked at my door wearing Duck Dynasty footie pajamas.
I chuckled as she walked into my suite. “I’ll never understand how the woman who abhors television and walks around like she just stepped off the runway could be so obsessed with those pajamas.”
“You’re just jealous I can rock it.” Scarlett settled into the couch.
Room service had delivered a tray with a bottle of wine, two silver cocktail shakers filled with chilled drinks, an unopened bottle of Tito’s vodka, a full bottle of diet cranberry, and an assortment of nuts, pretzels, cheese, and crackers.
She grabbed a handful of cashews and tossed a few in her mouth before pouring a drink for each of us into glasses. “Tell me again why you weren’t living in one of your hotels in London? Because I can surely get used to this service. Especially if there’s a resident stud who takes care of the hotel’s and my pipes.”
I took my drink from the coffee table and sat down on the chair across from her. Tucking my legs beneath me, I sipped. “Trust me, that life sounds more glamorous than it is. Living in a hotel turns into a very lonely existence pretty quickly.”
“Oh? You weren’t looking very lonely when you walked into that restaurant. Seriously, Soph, Liam used to stay over at our house. I don’t recall you ever looking as properly fucked by that bore.”
I sighed. “I guess that’s because sex with Liam was never half as good as sex with Weston.”
Scarlett smiled. “I am over the moon for you. This is exactly what you needed.”
I arched an eyebrow. “To canoodle with a sworn enemy of my family while trying to come up with the winning bid that will allow me to force him out of any management of the hotel?”
“First off…canoodle? Now I know you’re American, but as far as I know, you are not over the age of seventy. So let’s give what’s going on the proper amount of respect, shall we? Shagging, fucking—I’ll even permit getting it on from that car-accident-waiting-to-happen of a show you Yankees loved, Jersey Shore. And secondly, it’s your grandfather’s ax to grind, not yours, correct? Did the angry Adonis ever do anything to you personally? Other than give you what I assume are spectacular orgasms?”
“Well, no… But…we aren’t even nice to each other.”
Scarlett sipped her wine, looking at me over the brim. “Being nice isn’t a requirement for good sex.”
“I know. But…”
Ever since the moment Scarlett figured out what was going on, the smile hadn’t left her face. Until now.
She set her drink on the coffee table and shook her head. “You’re growing feelings for him, aren’t you?”
I shook my head. “No… Definitely not… I mean, I don’t know.”
Scarlett sighed. “It would be easier if you could keep feelings out of it.”
I nodded. “Trust me, I’ve tried. And it started out that way. I didn’t like him the slightest bit when this first started—well, that’s not true. I might’ve liked some parts of him. But it was purely physical. Every time we argued, we’d wind up having pissed-off sex. He’s the absolute last person I’d ever pick to go out with. Aside from the fact that we’re competitors and our families have been at war for a half century, he’s a playboy, arrogant, not exactly stable, and has more emotional baggage than I do.”
“Well, you’ve spent the last ten years picking men you thought would be good for you. How did that turn out?”
I made a disapproving face. “Thanks.”
“As much as you thought Liam checked all of your required boxes, I always thought he was a selfish slug. Whenever we all went out together, it was on his timeline and to a place he liked. He never seemed to ask what you wanted. We’ve never discussed your sex life, but I would venture to guess he wasn’t generous in that arena either.”
She wasn’t wrong. Toward the end, it had been a special occasion if Liam put in more than three minutes of foreplay. And him giving me oral sex was essentially a birthday or Valentine’s Day gift, even though he knew my orgasms from that were incomparable to any other. I worked weekdays. He worked weekends. Yet the only time we ever went out late was on the days he didn’t have to get up, even though I did.
“I’ve definitely noticed that Weston is more attentive sexually. He pays attention and figures out what works for me. Liam had his little routine, and it worked for him—sometimes it worked for me, too. But I can chalk that up to experience. I haven’t asked for a headcount, but I’m certain Weston has been with more women than Liam.”
Scarlett pointed to my drink. “How is that with the diet cranberry?”
“It’s great. You don’t even taste the difference.” I held the glass to her. “You want to try it?”
Scarlett tilted her head. “Did Liam ever stock his fridge with what you liked?”
I knew what she was getting at. “That was very thoughtful of Weston. But…”
“Listen, Soph. I don’t know this man from Adam, so I could be totally off base. But I get the feeling that if you really think about it, you’ll see there’s more to it than just Weston ordering diet cranberry juice and making sure you finish first. And the same goes for Liam. If you think back, I have no doubt you’ll see you were second on his priority list. Liam was always number one.”
Chapter 15
* * *
Sophia
Oh no. Nothing good could come from this pairing.
The next morning I walked over to the seating area off the lobby, where Weston and Scarlett were having coffee and laughing.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Scarlett sipped from her mug through her grin.
“This is late for you,” Weston chimed in. His eyes gleamed. “Must’ve been worn out last night.”
“What are you two doing?”
Scarlett feigned an innocent face. “Having coffee. What does it look like we’re doing?”
I rolled my eyes. “I need coffee to handle you two at the same time. Be right back.”
“I’ll take another caffè macchiato with one pump of vanilla, please.” Scarlett held up her mug.
Weston shrugged. “I’ll take a tall, black coffee.”
I squinted. “Not that I asked...”
I heard them chuckle as I walked away.
After a long wait in line, I put all three drinks on a plastic serving tray and walked back to where Weston and Scarlett were still looking cozy.
“What are you two talking about?” I handed Scarlett her coffee and then Weston. “You look like you’re enjoying yourselves a little too much.”
“I asked Weston if he knew of any good clubs nearby. We need to go out dancing. He told me about a place a few blocks away that’s become a celebrity hangout.”
“Oh really? I didn’t realize Weston was a club hopper.”
He sipped his coffee. “I’m not. Not anymore, anyway. Church is owned by one of my buddies from grad school. He built it in a closed-down cathedral. It’s all he posts about on social media.”