Creeping into the room, she tossed the shirt on the couch and turned toward the kitchenette, vaguely unsettled by the silence.
Wherewashe?
Maybe he had a bath and fell asleep, and he’s still there right now,her brain supplied helpfully.
She shivered at the imagesthatconjured up. Henry, his naked skin all wet and glistening as he lounged back in a bathfull of water, the soap bubblesjustcovering up enough of him to leave a certain amount to the imagination….
Stop! Let the poor man bathe in peace, without thinking all kinds of sexy thoughts about him.
Still, whatwouldshe do if he was having a naked snooze mere feet away from her? Things would be really awkward once he woke up.
Or maybe she had just hallucinated the whole encounter, and she’d never had an unbearably good-looking man accompany her back to her room and take his shirt off.
Luna popped Fillmore on the floor and stared fixedly at the kitchenette, wondering how long she could reasonably stare at the wall in her own hotel room, when she noticed something odd.
Specifically: two cups of tea sitting on the bench. They were obviously freshly brewed, judging from the wispy curlicues of steam that rose up from them.
Did Henry do this? I guess at least that confirms that hewashere, rather than being some figment of my overactive imagination.
She supposed that she had given him more than sufficient time to finish up in the bathroom, or at least to respond to her. At this point, she was starting to worry that he had slipped in the shower and hit his head.
“Henry?” she called out again. “I’m going to come in, okay? Sorry if you’re… uh… indecent?”
Silently cursing herself and hoping Henry somehow hadn’t made out what she’d said through the bathroom door, Luna turned and started moving across the room when something caught her eye.
It took a moment for it to fully register in her mind: a damp towel was sitting on the floor next to the window. The curtains were also pulled back, when she knew they’d been closed earlier.
Frowning, she picked up the towel, as if she could somehow divine Henry’s actions from it.
So, he… took some time to admire the view, then dumped his wet towel on the wooden floor like a barbarian and left without leaving so much as a note?
It didn’t seem right. He really didn’t seem like the type to be so inconsiderate, especially as he had apparently been so kind as to make her a cup of tea.
She opened the bathroom door and stuck her head inside just to be sure, but nope, he was definitely gone. So were his clothes… except for his shirt, of course, which stared at her tauntingly from the couch.
You! This is all your fault! You took too long to dry, and now he’s gone!
She grabbed the shirt and shoved it into her shoulder bag, alongside her phone, her notebook, various pens, and the bunch of assorted junk shereallyhad to clean out of it at some point or another. Maybe she would run into him later, and she could give it back to him. Surely all she would have to do in order to locate him was to follow the hordes of starry-eyed admirers who had gathered to gaze upon the handsome shirtless muscle man?
Sighing, she ran her hands through her hair and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to make sense of everything. Surely there had to be a rational explanation!
In the end, there was nothing for it but to grab one of the still-warm cups of strawberry oolong and pull out the teabag, adding a dash of milk. She knew that that would make her a heathen in some people’s eyes, but she didn’t care.
Perching on the edge of the couch, she cradled the cup of tea in her hands and took a moment to inhale the subtly sweet aroma, enjoying the warmth from the cup as it spread through her hands. Really, there was nothing that a cup of warm tea couldn’t fix… or at least make seem more fixable.
She slowly sipped the tea, enjoying its delicate flavors, and pointedly didnotlook at the shirt that was taunting her from inside her bag.
Part of her dearly wanted to rummage through the package of cakes that she knew were in the welcome hamper and help herself to some delicious sugary carbs in order to soothe her pain, but her heart just wasn’t in it. She’d secretly been hoping that she’d be able to find a way to entice Henry to stay for some cake and tea, but not only had she failed at that, he hadn’t even stayed long enough to say goodbye!
It was confusing and frustrating, to say the least. He reallyhadseemed like a genuinely nice guy. And why would he come all the way back here to get his shirt washed if he wasn’t even going to take his shirt when he left?
This really didn’t makeanysense.
“Oh, Fillmore,” she murmured, scritching him under the chin and smiling weakly as his little tongue peeked out from between his teeth. “Men, huh? Well, we don’t need him and his stupid hot body and his stupid heart-melting smile, anyway.”
The words rang a little hollow even to her own ears, but theydidat least remind her that she had a job to do. Somehow, she didn’t think that her editor would be understanding if she failed to write anything for a week-long assignment because she got cake on some sexy stranger.
Maybe it would be a good distraction, anyway. There was so much to see and do – andeat– that surely it would help take her mind off things.
