New York.
Something tells me I’ll have to pull off an Alcatraz-worthy escape to make it back to Loveless tonight.
Crap.
I am definitely not in a New York state of mind.
“This hotel is the shit!” Warren holds the door open for me as we step into the elevator. My head is still ringing from the sound of the rotors. My brain feels as if a hornet’s nest has dislodged in it. And despite the fact that I’ve got mild cramps and a migraine on the horizon, my mind is buzzing with a thousand clever ways to kill Warren and make it look like an accident. I swear if his fingers travel to my inner thighs, one more time, I’ll reenact the ball-breaking moves I employed on him just last week.
We step off onto the penthouse floor with plush navy carpeting as he wheels my suitcase down the posh hall toward a room with double doors.
“So what are you thinking? We’ll change and go to dinner?” My voice sounds like I’m hearing myself from the inside of a fishbowl.
Warren slips the plastic keycard into the door and gives a wicked grin in lieu of an answer.
“Wearegoing back to Loveless tonight, right?” I insist because obviously I refuse to the let the hotel room and luggage offer me a clue.
“After you.” He holds out his hand, and I breeze past him into the darkened room. Warren picks up a remote and points it at the wall, and the room magically fills with the sound of a lovesick sax while a thousand electric candles illuminate the area, exposing an oversized loft-piled bed. In the center of the gargantuan space a table is set up for two with a pair of silver domes over it.
Oh, God.
I take in the opulent display as if it were a crime scene.
Ace had real candles at the boathouse, and the music came from our own hearts, our passion tore up the room, and the only thing we were hungry for was each other.
Warren manhandles another remote, and the fireplace roars to life like an untamed dragon.
“Nice touch.” I let out a helpless sigh and take in the surroundings once again. “Well, we’d better get to dinner I’m starved.” Maybe if I speed things along, I can wade my way through this nightmare and still make it to Loveless by midnight.
“First—a dance.” He snaps up my hand, and I make sure to maintain a comfortable distance. This is Warren after all. I’ve known him since we were babies, for as long as I’ve known Ace—funny how I sort of have polarized feelings for the two of them. I try to think of a time that Ace and I shared a dance, and not one occasion comes to mind. It breaks my heart. But it also gives me something to look forward to.
“What’s going through your mind?” Warren leans in and sniffs into my neck like a predator. He’s immaculate looking tonight with his power suit, his hair slicked back in thick, caramel waves, his fresh tan, even if it is a fake bake. I know for a fact there are a ton of girls who would sell all the eggs in their ovaries for a chance to shack up in New York for the night with Warren. It just so happens that I’m not one of them.
I pull back and take him in as he awaits my answer. I’m sure as hell not going to say Ace Waterman, but I want to.
“Just missing home, that’s all.” It’s the truth. I’ll have to tell Brylee I’m not allergic to it after all.
His hands sink past my waist and round out my bottom. He’s sending some pretty serious signals that I’m prepared to ignore.
“I don’t travel well.” I raise his hands an inch before they find a home in the hills and canyons he’s not welcome to.
“You’re still pissed about the other night.” His chest bumps as he huffs it off. “Did you get the flowers?” He looks perplexed that I could still be angry after he followed up his failed penis plunge with the biggest bouquet that money could buy. Things went from horny to thorny in a single bound, sort of like they’re about to now.
“Look”—he knocks his head back exasperated—“that’s what New York is all about. I’m making it up to you.”
“Great.” I try my best to drag him over to the table. “Consider yourself forgiven. Now, let’s eat.”
I scurry to my seat and whip off the dome only to find my favorite crustacean staring back at me with the tail already neatly pieced off just waiting for me to give it a butter bath. I think Warren would have done miles better to have sent two dozen red lobsters instead of roses. If I were even mildly riding the fence, I might be swayed by deep-sea culinary delights, but I’ll take chocolate and wildflowers any day if it means I get Ace in the end.
“You sure know what I like.” I dig in. If I have to eat a sacrificial meal to spur this hostile takeover along I’m pretty damn glad it comes equipped with a shiny red spine and beady little eyes.
“Of course, I know what you like.” Warren reaches over and places his hand over mine just as I’m about to dive into the first golden delicious bite. “And I know what you need.” His eyes fix on mine, and now my appetite is waning. Why do I get the feeling I might want to save one of these claws for use once he starts chasing me around the furniture? “I’m all about giving you the best. We’re going to have an entire lifetime of this shit, Reese.” His jaw squares out. Warren looks like one of those underwear models they bronze out and blowup over Times Square. Sometimes I wonder if I’m the only girl on the planet who’s not attracted to him. “You realize we’re not like other people. We’re so fucking lucky.” He shakes his head as he starts in on his meal.
I pop the luscious bite into my mouth and contemplate his theory. “I guess you’re right.” I don’t mind talking through a mouthful of food. In fact, the more I disgust Warren and kill any fantasy he might have of me being his plus one on any of his future hostile dinner takeovers, the better. “But I kind of like the simple life. Camping, a nice crackling fire, picnic baskets—massages.” Specifically the kind Ace gives with his tongue, but I leave that part out.
“Camping?” He ticks his head back a notch as if I suggested we scan the corner for cockroaches and eat them for dessert. “This is as close to camping as I’ll ever let you get.” He gives a greasy smile. “And, in just a little bit, I’ll be giving you a massage you will never forget right in front of that kickass fire.” He flicks his tongue in the air, and I straighten in my seat.
Dear God, deliver me from Warren.
