After reading them three damn times, all I can do is smile. It’s a little after four now, so I’m definitely falling through when I’m done. For the next hour, I answer my emails. Then I check in with the guys outside and let Trista know I’m out for the day.
I don’t want to show up at Adora’s room empty handed but I also don’t want to look crazy either, so after overthinking the shit, I slide to The Marketplace, grab one of those premixed Black Ops Specialty drinks ladies seem to like and a few ready meal kits from the deli. She liked the soup and salad I’d sent her for lunch last week, so I get a cobb salad meal, then pick up a sushi dinner and a pasta one, chicken parmesan. Each one comes with sides and a dessert or bread, so hopefully, I got something she’ll like.
When I make it to the hotel, I pull up to the valet, give them my keys, and get a ticket. The elevator bays are through themassive lobby to the right. I walk up right as one opens. I enter, ascend up to the fifth floor, and journey to her room. I don’t hesitate to knock on the door.
“Who is it?” I hear her sultry voice ask from the other side of the door.
“Xai.”
“Xai?” she says in a questioning tone. “Um…Xai, give me a minute.”
I hear movement on the other side then about five minutes later, the door flies open. Standing on the other side is a fucking amazing sight. She’s dressed simply, in baggy blue sweats, a cut off T-shirt, and big ass fuzzy socks. The slight exposure of her stomach and piercing is sexy as hell. Her hair is pulled up on her head, giving me a clear view of her pretty ass face. She’s glowing, looking incredible.
“Hey, beautiful,” I say.
“Hey. Um. What are you doing here?” she asks, blowing me because her text was clear, very clear.
“You texted me,” I say and she’s obviously stunned, still blowing me.I know what I read.
“I did?”
“Are you fucking with me?” I ask.
“No. No. No. I might have. Shit, I don’t know,” she says, really blowing me.
Although the only place I want to be right now is here with her, I’m also not staying any place I’m not wanted. Being who I am, I say, “If you don’t want me here, I can dip.”
“No! No. Come in. It’s just been a crazy morning,” she says apologetically. She steps back to allow me in but I hesitate for a moment because I’m really not understanding this. She clearly texted me. I know I’m not tripping. “Please,” she insists when she sees my reluctance. “Come in. I’m tripping,” she says.
I step in and see she has a suite, not just a regular room. She leads me to the sofa then motions for me to sit. I do and place the bag on the table. She joins me and immediately grabs her cell.
“You did text me,” I say.
As her eyes look over her phone, she says with laughter, “I see. Oh my god! I was drunk. Wow.” She laughs more and shakes her head. Then she looks up at me. “They gave me prosecco at the spa. I drink and I’ve had wine before but not that. The girl warned me and she was right. I texted you while I was clearly feeling the prosecco,” she says, still amused. “But clearly I wanted you here. Drunkenness only reveals your real thoughts, right?”
“That’s what they say,” I admit. I’m more relaxed now at her confession. “So you wanted me here?”
“Looks like it,” she says before tucking her legs under her butt.
“Good, ’cause I want to be here. I bought food too. You ate yet?”
“No. I was really about to look at this menu to order. What’s in the bag?” she asks with a huge smile.
“I got some meals-on-the-go from The Marketplace.”
“Can I look?”
“It’s for you,” I say and she drops her legs then leans forward.
She opens the bag and removes the bottle and all three kits. “All this isn’t for me,” she says while unstacking the kits. “You pick since you bought them. I like all three actually.”
“Lady’s choice. Pick your favorite.”
“Our first interaction together and you already know I drunk text. Now you’re going to know I’m greedy too,” she says with a grin. “I want a little of all three. Can we just share? I do that with my girls a lot.”
“I’m not thinking shit in a negative way. We can share. I like them all too but I need to wash my hands. Where’s the bathroom?”
After easing off the sofa, she says, “Come on.” Gladly, I follow her through the suite into the bedroom, watching the sway of her hips and ass. Even with these big ass sweats, I can see all of her curves. “Ignore the bed. I just got out of it. The wine and massage knocked me out,” she says while holding her hand toward the bathroom door. “I’ll be back in the living room.”
