But then I’m grateful for this experience, and he did offer a sliver of vulnerability today, so Idecide to reciprocate. “I don’t remember the last time someone did something like this for me.”
“Taken you to a spa?”
“Allowed me to be selfish.” I want to look at him, but then I remember he’s practically naked, so I throw my forearm over my eyes for good measure.
“Self-care isn’t selfish. I could see you were tired. You mentioned at the gala how much you work… You deserve a brief break. I’m glad I could organize one for you.”
There is that cocky undertone in his voice, but fuck if his words don’t stir more emotional turmoil inside me.
I almost wished he had said he wanted to come and just tagged me along, but he brought me here because he thought this was what I needed. A man who had only met me a handful of times before.
My emotions clog my throat, and I think my swallow must be audible. Tears threaten their reappearance, so I change the topic.
“Why do you live in a hotel?” I reach to take a sip of my tea.
“Why not?”
I whip my head toward him. “Are you for real? It must be expensive, and wouldn’t you want a home instead of an impersonal space?”
He shrugs. “I never got aroundto finding something since I moved. At first, I didn’t know where I’d want to live, and then I got too busy at work. I enjoy the service that comes with a room here. I’m comfortable, and it’s convenient, which I value more than a painting on the wall and a picture on a nightstand.”
I blink a few times, trying to understand his view, but I fail. Though I guess it must be nice not to cook, clean, or do laundry, or even grocery shopping. “But it must cost you a fortune.”
He picks up an apple and takes a generous bite. The juice rolls from the corner of his lips, and his tongue darts out. A sexy apple bite. God help me!
I lie back down and force my eyes to stare at the ceiling.
“It’s a fraction of what I make.”
“That must be nice,” I snort.
In the few beats of silence, the robe becomes incredibly uncomfortable, the sweat trickling between my breasts and down my spine.
I contemplate how different our worlds are, and with sadness, I realize that his world feels so much easier than mine.
“I don’t think a piece of real estate creates a home. It’s the people you share it with,” he says casually, but the sentiment behind his words is anything but casual.
He moved here from San Francisco to startMerged, I think. I paid little attention to what my friends said about him.
Thinking about it now, we had one lengthy conversation at the gala, but he somehow made me talk without sharing much. How did I not realize that?
“Do you miss your family?” I turn to him, hoping I’ve somehow built immunity to his muscles.
Unfortunately I haven’t. But it doesn’t feel like I should have this part of the conversation while talking to the ceiling.
The room fills with a heavy silence, and I regret taking this direction immediately. My family situation is something I never discuss, so why would I ask him that?
“I miss them, but this is where my life is now.”
The statement sounds like a sentence of exile more than a decision, but I don’t pry anymore. It’s not like we’re close enough to share details. Besides, I don’t want to talk about my family, so let’s leave it.
“And what a life! I can get used to this.” I smile.
“You’re welcome anytime.” He winks.
“Don’t tempt me.”
My words are innocent… or that’s how I meant them, but his pupils darken, and the air between us thickens with suggestion.
