I stammer, both from the question and from seeing his naked torso for the first time. He’s toned, cut, and smooth. Even in the unflattering light of the bedside lamps, his skin is airbrushed perfection.
What cruel world forces a man who keeps up appearances like this into faux concierging? It’s oxymoronic. He belongs on billboards, bus stickers, eye candy on a prestige miniseries.
I want him to destroy me in every way imaginable.
“I repeat, who said I was staying?” His shirt is a pool of fabric at his feet, and as my eyes scan back up, they land on a prominent bulge presenting in the front of his work slacks, which causes my own groin to ache. How long had it been since I’d done something daring like hookup with a near stranger?
“I thought...” My sentence trails off because I’m finally hearing him, and I worry that we’ve somehow crossed a boundary. Because he kind of, sort of works here, and maybe fraternizing with the guests is a nonstarter.
“You thought that I was the kind of guy who brought pizza to strangers, played board games with them, and then railed them within an inch of their life?” he asks, and I swear he flexes his abs which...holy mother of God. I’m distracted again.
“Admittedly,” I choke out. “Yeah.”
“Well, then,” he says with an apparently offended snort as he bends down to pick up his shirt.
My chest heaves with embarrassment. “Oh, my God. I’m so so—”
“You’d be right,” he says, head snapping up while wearing a shit-eating grin. “I’m fucking with you.”
I sigh with a unique mixture of relief, horniness, and annoyance. What is this man doing to me? “Okay, well drop thewithfrom that sentence, please.”
I go to kiss him again, but he holds out a firm hand. “While I may be that kind of guy, I’m also the kind of guy who only rails men within an inch of their life when they’resober.”
It’s right as he says this that I notice I’m listing a bit to the left. I had been so caught up in the excitement and the forgetting and the sexiness of it all that I forgot I’d already had a threesome this evening with Jack Daniel and Jose Cuervo.
“Fair,” I say, agreeing that I’m not in my best shape right now. Disappointed in both myself and the situation, I cross over to grab the water glass Leo had brought me earlier and drink from it. There’s no shaking this away right now. As much as I want to.
Which means Leo’s not getting his reward tonight, and he no longer has a reason to stay, so I’ll go to bed alone like I have for the last four weeks, except this time I’ll do so in a grody hotel room in the middle of Los Angeles. Lucky me.
I never should’ve come, I think, turning so I don’t have to watch him leave.
But then Leo says, “I need the left side of the bed.”
I could crumble like a breakfast bar right now.
“You bring an extra toothbrush?” Leo asks as he starts making himself comfortable. It’s possible, but I can’t remember. “What kind of traveler are you? Don’t you know to always pack a toothbrush in your carry-onandyour checked bag just in case?”
I fumble around in my backpack. In the dig, I latch onto a pack of winter mints, shaking them in the air like I’ve found nuggets of gold.
“Ah, candy. The epitome of oral health.”
“Just use mine. It’s new. It’s right from the dentist’s goody bag.”
“Your dentist still gives you a goody bag? Does he give you stickers and a paddleball for being such a good boy, too?”
I know he knows what he’s doing by saying that. Goose bumps crop up across my red-hot skin. I’m still yearning to taste him. Every part of him. Several times. I’m sweating again.
“What can I say? I get rewards as good as I give them.” Just because he pumped the brakes on tonight doesn’t mean this wasn’t a teaser for what’s to come later in this trip if we’re both lucky.
“Oh, yeah?” he asks, standing in the doorway to the bathroom, half his still-shirtless torso beamed with fluorescent light. “Well, then, the kiss was a good start. We can iron out a full repayment plan in the morning.”
He winks at me and then his laugh echoes in the bleachy bathroom as he shuts the door.
Five
There’s a banana on my back.
Firm, curved, pressed upward into my sacrum like a silly morning surprise. I must’ve fished it out of the not-so-complimentary snacks last night and discarded it on the bed. Potassium was not what I wanted to quell my tidal wave of emotions after my awful tapas date with Alexia. However, now that I think about it, I don’t remember there being any fruit in that basket at all, so unless a banana from the sad-looking continental breakfast spread grew legs and...
