CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
User 1543. Male. 34.
Please, don’t decline again.
I need to see you. Both of you.
Typhoon of shit, or not, I don’t care.
Duration: Four hours.
Proposal price: Whatever you want. Just accept, please.
The price Josh set was a grand. Just a token gesture as far as Heath Mason is concerned, but enough to pass through The Agency books without too much scrutiny. The last thing we want is to draw any attention to the proposal. Not for any of us.
We get a cab to the random hotel in Maidstone that Heath has chosen, quite a way out of London. The journey seems to take a decade as Josh and I sit in silence, holding hands. There is nothing to say. No small talk would cut it.
We check into the hotel under Josh’s name, and the smiling blonde receptionist hands over the key card for our room. She grins at Josh as she points out the elevator, blatantly fancying a piece of him, and he maintains his cool with a confident smile. He gives her a graciousthank you, this place looks absolutely excellent, and she replies with a giggle.
Thank you, sir! Enjoy your stay. Catch you tomorrow for breakfast, I hope.
It’s like I don’t exist as I stay a few steps to side of him, protecting myself from prying eyes. I’ve dressed down massively, trying to blend in by being ordinary. But I don’t like ordinary. I never have. It may offer sanctuary, but it feels like shit.
I don’t want to hide myself away anymore. I don’t want to dull my own flame.
But tonight, I have no choice. Not where Heath is concerned. I have to suck it up in my oversized light blue hoodie as the receptionist hits on my boyfriend, right in front of me.
It’s not a surprise, and it’s not jealousy that has me frustrated. It’s the lack ofmebeingme.I mean, even in a play it down getup of jeans and a t-shirt, Josh looks amazing, and he sounds it. I’d want to hit on him with everything I had if I was her. And he’s buzzing with just the right amount of cockiness to keep her satisfied.
Still, his cool chill is a façade. He takes a deep breath once we’ve turned away from her, a hint of sweat beading on his brow as we cross the foyer, wheeling our small suitcase.
I grab his hand, squeezing hard when we reach the elevator. My breaths are already hitching when it arrives and opens with ading, an instinctive bout of panic threatening to take over until we are up on floor five, safe in the confines of our hotel room. Trust Heath, he’s booked us a whole bloody suite, even for justa few hours. The place is luxurious as hell, with a huge bed, and minibar and jacuzzi bath.
Me and Josh would usually be squealing at the luxury of a room like this, but not tonight. Josh flops himself down on the luxury, king-size bed and lets out a sigh.
“I thought I was ready for it, but I’m not.”
I join him, wrapping an arm over his chest as we lie together.
“Yep. I’m with you on team jitterbug. I’m absolutely crapping myself.”
“I’m glad we’re not gonna be waiting long. I don’t think my guts would take it.”
“Ditto.” I link my fingers in his. “Here we are, though. It’s going to get easier once we know what the score is. We’ll do ok, I’m sure.”
He squeezes my fingers, palm to palm.
“Yeah, we’ll do ok. Always.”
We won’t have that much time to dwell and ponder. Just over an hour until the proposal starts. The final strait.
I’m glad the waiting time is so short. My brain is already scatty enough to make me dizzy.
“Fancy a coffee?” Josh asks. “The freebies look good.”
The freebies do look good on a tray on the dresser – at least a dozen kinds of teabags and posh coffees, along with multiple packs of biscuits.
“I’m buzzing way too much for coffee,” I tell him. “Maybe we should get ready?”
