Before I can say anything in reply, he hangs up, and I’m left staring at my home screen, wondering what he meant by that.
“Maybe he wants me to call him after I pick it up?” I mumble to myself as I grab a pair of sandals and my purse. I threw on a bit of blush and mascara after I did my hair. In this heat, that’s all I can handle. Everything else just melts off.
I double-check my purse for my keycard before heading out and manage to slide into the elevator just before it closes. An elderly couple from Texas greets me and asks where I’m from, and then, when I say LA, they do that thing everyone does—ask if I’ve ever seen any famous people.
I shake my head and lie. Their disappointment is instantaneous.
Do I feel bad lying? Sure, but it’s a lie that protects my brother, so it’s justifiable, right? Besides, I doubt they even know who Manic at Midnight is.
Thankfully, the elevator makes its way down to the lobby quickly, and our conversation is cut short. I give them a polite nod and step out toward the concierge.
But instead, I come to a complete stop.
Standing in the middle of the lobby is Hollis Beck.
I feel a strange sense of déjà vu because, like that first moment I saw him standing in the school hallway or my parents’ kitchen, I feel completely blindsided.
He is still the hottest man I’ve ever seen.
His dark-red hair is longer and curlier than I remember. I would definitely remember those curls. They frame his ruggedlyhandsome face and piercing green eyes. He looks like something out of a Highlander novel. All he needs is a kilt, a Scottish accent, and a sword because that body is ridiculous.
He definitely wasn’t so…fitin high school.
“You’re here,” I manage to say, somewhat in a daze as I close the gap between us.
“Surprise?” His voice is deeper than it sounds on the phone. Sexier.
“How?” Apparently, seeing him has greatly reduced my vocabulary.
“I took a red eye,” he explains sheepishly with a shrug. It’s adorable, and suddenly I find myself throwing my arms around his shoulders. He grunts in surprise.
“It’s so good to see you.”
His arms wrap around my waist. They’re large and familiar, and I can feel their heat through the thin fabric of my dress. I forgot how tall he is, and because of our height difference, I’m practically using his pec as a pillow.
“It’s good to see you too,” he says softly. “Really good.”
I pull back, suddenly realizing I’ve been clinging to him like we’re reunited lovers, rather than just old friends.
Just friends, I remind myself.
“Um…do you need to check in or something?” I ask awkwardly. “How long are you staying?”
“I already checked in, but I haven’t gone up to my room yet.” He points to the small bag by his feet that I hadn’t even bothered to notice. How could I with him standing there? “And as for how long I’m staying…it depends.”
“On?”
“How longyouare staying.”
“Oh, I’m headed back tomorrow morning,” I say, suddenly wishing I could stay longer. But I’m already pushing it being away this long since the bar is now down an employee.
Thanks for that, Jace.
“So we have twenty-four hours, then?”
“Yes,” I answer with a grimace. Is he going to regret coming all this way for a single day?
He grabs my hand, and I’m suddenly being dragged toward the elevator. I let out an amused laugh. “Where are we going?”
