“Sure,” Rob says, and he moves toward the door, but turns just before he exits. “Want me to order any breakfast to the room?”
“I’m good, but if you’re doing another coffee run, I’ll get the usual, please.”
The usual? What is his usual?
I’m sure the women waiting outside the hotel would know every little detail about him. But before last night, I’d never even heard of Alexander. The only thing I do know right now is that he’s an American singer who had a wardrobe malfunction on stage. Oh, and that he could just be the most attractive guy I’ve ever met.
Alexander snaps me out of my thoughts.
“So, what brings you to town? I realize I don’t even know your name.”
“Christopher,” I say.
“Alex,” he responds, offering me his hand to shake formally.
Does he go by Alexander publicly and prefers Alex in private?
His shake, a vice-like grip, sends my mind places that I really need it not to go right now.
“I’m here for my sister’s wedding next weekend, so I’m here for all the prewedding shit.” I walk back toward the bench press.
“Not a fan of weddings, I take it?”
“Nope. Especially not the family drama that comes with it.” I swallow down a lump in my throat, trying to push away the thoughts about why I’m staying here at the hotel and not at my parents’ home and why my father won’t be attending.
“Families can be the worst.”
I briefly catch the pain in his eyes, but I know not to dig too deeply when it comes to family. Alexander slides back on the bench, grabbing the dumbbells to begin the next repetition. The power dynamic changes once more with me towering over him.
“So, why are you here?” I try, tentatively.
“Oh, I’m in town till next Sunday doing a run of shows at the O2,” he says. His muscles flex with each thrust, matching the quiet casualness with which he said he’s performing at one of the biggest and most prestigious arenas in the world.
Wait.
He’s also here for the next ten days? I might get to spend more time with him. My pulse quickens at the thought.
I let out a deep exhale to try and temper my excitement.
“You get much downtime while you’re here?”
“Nah, the team’s got me working like a dog. I think I might have one day off next Thursday if I’m lucky. When I’m not performing on stage, they’ve got me doing promo, photoshoots, or recording.” His body slumps as if his spirit has left it as he gets back up off the bench.
With a schedule like that, no wonder he looks a little worn down. That probably explains the reason he was sick earlier too.
“Right, I better get back upstairs. Thanks for spotting me this morning. Appreciate it.” He goes to shake my hand, but then pulls me in for a hug instead, nodding at Rob through the glass window.
“No problem,” I reply. “I should probably head up shortly too, but I think I’ll hit the steam room first.”
“They have a steam room?” His voice lifts along with his eyebrows.
“Apparently? It’s in the changing room.” I pause and wonder whether to hedge my bets. “Might be worth you jumping in to sweat out the remainder of the bug that made you sick this morning,” I say, walking past him and out the door.
I dare not look back over my shoulder, but I feel his looming presence as I hear two sets of feet follow me. I open the door to the changing room, but my hope quickly turns to disappointment when I see the steam room. It’s barely big enough to swing a cat in.
“Looks like there’s not enough room to fit both of us in there,” he says, leaning against one of the wooden lockers.
I shed my sneakers and remove my socks, shorts, and top by the padded seats in the center of the room, then grab a towel from the rack on the wall and open the door to the steam room. There’s a feistiness in him that I just can’t help but play along with.
