“Night,” Rob adds in a monosyllabic tone.
Clearly, Rob is just as tired and pissed off by this whole fire alarm situation as I am. I wonder if they already know the real reason the alarm went off.
At the fourth floor, the remaining two women exit—a brunette and a woman with a pixie cut who is nearly as tall as Rob.
“Eleven a.m. at the suite right?” the tall one asks, turning back once out of the elevator.
“Yes,” Paul says, looking up from his phone. The closing doors prevent him from saying anything else. Though, from our interaction earlier, he seems to be a man of few words.
Finally, the elevator reaches our floor, but as I go to step out, Rob stops me, placing his hand firmly across my chest. He nods at a security guard waiting opposite us.
“Hold fire for a second. We all clear?” he asks to the security guard.
My discomfort has me reaching for a funny one-liner, but I stop myself. This is not the time for humor.
“Affirmative,” the guy responds.
Rob motions Alexander forward, and the security guard moves ahead of him down the hallway as Rob exits. I motion for Paul to exit before me.
“I’m on the top floor.” Paul’s nostrils flare.
Fine. Be a dick.
I shake my head as I exit. Alexander and the security guard are already halfway down the hallway, and I get the feeling that maybe Alexander and I won’t be picking up from where we left off.
I hover by my door momentarily, retrieving my new room key, before Rob comes back down the hall toward me.
“What are you waiting for?” Rob points toward Alexander’s suite.
Maybe I’ve got Rob wrong. There’s a firm but kind side appearing tonight.
Maybe the rudeness I experienced during those first twenty-four hours was actually him being overly protective of Alexander, rather than anything to do with me.
“Oh, okay,” I say, sliding the key back in my pocket and heading down to Alexander’s suite. The other security guard opens the door once I arrive.
“Night,” Rob says.
Night?
What does he meannight?
Does he assume I’m staying the night?
As I enter, Alexander comes out of the bedroom, towel in hand. He’s already removed his hoodie and sweatpants. His white vest and boxer briefs are all that’s left.
“Here.” He chucks the towel at me forcefully while making his way past the two armchairs to where I’m standing. I grab it in one swoop, impressed that I have any strength left with how exhausted I am, and start to pat down my clothes.
“Let’s get you out of these and into something more comfortable.” He reaches for the bottom of my polo shirt, but I pull back. A wave of fear rises inside.
He lowers his hand as confusion floods his eyes.
“Sorry, I’m just a little…” The dryness in my mouth stops me from continuing.
I’ve always been uncomfortable with guys seeing me naked. Especially ones with physiques like Alexander’s. And Kelly had called me “pigeon belly” as a teenager, cementing my paranoia. I’d spent a lot of time in the gym, working hard to get a flat stomach, but I always fell short of achieving that toned, ripped abdomen.
“It’s okay,” Alexander says, like he can read my mind. “I can get you something else to change into if you want.” He walks back toward his bedroom, motioning me to take a seat on the couch where just a couple of hours ago we were in the throes of passion.
“I’d appreciate that.”
