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“But clothes?” Carson continues, still looking like he doesn’t know whether to scratch his watch or check his ass. Dumbass.
“Fitness apparel,” I correct him. “Now can we talk about what y’all are going to do while I’m gone? Mya said we shouldn’t be gone longer than a few days.”
“Meeting with the contractors day after tomorrow,” Benji tells me, looking up. “Fletch is going to L.A to check out the sound equipment we need, and Carson here,” he slaps Carson on the back, “is staying with me.”
Carson looks put out, and I know he would have preferred to go to L.A with Fletch, but I need both him and Benji here while I’m gone. Carson is, after all, good with his hands, and Benji has decided we won’t have all the work contracted out. We like getting our own hands dirty, too. In fact, if I remember correctly, it was me, Dad and Ryan who built the original barn, and the thought of revamping it for something I love excites me.
“So, Thorin,” Fletch stands, holding Eli in his arms, “is Mya going with y’all, or…”
I roll my eyes, and pour myself another cup of coffee. I’m about to tell him to stay the fuck away from her—she’s Reese’s best friend, and something between the two of them just spells d-r-a-m-a—when the front door opens, and Mya herself walks in. Raven hair braided to one side, dressed in jeans, boots and a sweater, she shifts her glasses up her nose. “Boys.” She smiles, glancing briefly at Fletch, who immediately has googley eyes, and then looks at me. “There’s been a slight change of plans, Thor.”
Ugh. Ever since she overheard Fletch call me that, she’s taken upon herself to do the same. It irritates me, and I’m willing to bet on my new truck that she’s well aware of how it gets under my skin. Don’t get me wrong, I like Mya, she’s obviously been a good friend to Reese, and has a brain for business, but her dark brown eyes are always glistening with mischief. Which is probably why Fletch is suddenly so taken by her.
“What do you mean a change of plans?”
“Alex hasn’t told you yet?”
My brows furrow. “No.” I check my phone, noting that there’s been no calls or texts from Alex.
“Well,” Mya slaps her hands together, “turns out the building where your penthouse is has a mold problem, which means you’ll be staying at the hotel with me and Reese.” Her smile changes from sweet to roguish, and with it, my gut falls out my ass because I know what’s coming. “And you’ll have to share with Reese.”
Well, fuck.
Chapter Fourteen
Reese
“What do you mean you only have a suite with one bed left?” I ask the concierge at reception. We’re in the lobby at the Waldorf, having landed over an hour ago. The drive from JFK was longer than expected due to construction, which already has me riled me up. Now, the guy at reception is telling me the only room left available is a suite with one bed. This wouldn’t be a problem if it was just me, but it’s not. Mya booked herself a single room after Thorin told her Eli and I would spend the week in his penthouse, but that also changed because Thorin’s penthouse building is supposedly under quarantine for a suspected mold infestation. Alex confirmed it yesterday.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am, but the hotel is fully booked for the next two weeks, and all we have left is a suite with a queen-sized bed,” the guy says, not looking the least bit apologetic. “We can have a basinet sent up, though.”
I grit my teeth, and contemplate going to another hotel, but it’s really late, the Waldorf is the most central for us, and after a difficult flight with Eli, I don’t have the energy to look for another place to stay. Thank God we ate on the plane, one less thing for me to stress about. Thorin looks just as displeased, but also not surprised (weird), like he knew about this already, and that only adds to my frustration. I don’t want to share a room with him anymore than he wants to share one with me, but if he knew about this then why didn’t he mention it? Still, we’re out of options now.
“Fine,” I sigh, handing over my credit card. “We’ll take it.”
He smiles, and all I want to do is punch him. He should not look so damn chipper. Then again, the only one freaking out about all this is me, even if I’m trying not to make it that obvious. He hands me back my card. “We’ll have a porter deliver your luggage. The room is ready for you.”
“Great,” I mutter, snatching my card back. With Eli strapped to his chest, Thorin follows me to the bank of elevators, and one the way up to our floor he’s silent. But his expression tells me everything I need to know. He’s one unhappy rockstar. Maybe if I’d told them who I was with they’d have made other plans, but hell will freeze over before I use Thorin’s notoriety to get a damn thing. Lucky for us, the suite itself is big, but it’s the queen-size bed that sticks out like a sore thumb. A few minutes later, a porter arrives with our luggage, and a basinet. If he recognizes Thorin, he doesn’t say anything, but judging by the wad of cash Thorin hands over, I’m guessing he’s silently being asked to keep Thorin’s presence at the hotel under wraps. So far, we’ve been able to stay under the radar, Thorin went so far as to book us first class tickets because there’s more privacy, and a lesser chance of him being recognized. To his credit, it actually worked. I want to save all the publicity for when my fitness apparel line and fitness app are ready for launch, and being heckled by the paparazzi now isn’t my idea of a good time. Eli starts fussing, but Thorin has spent enough time with him to know what to do so while he gets the little man settled, I scope out the rest of the suite. One bathroom, one bed, a small living room area with plush sofas, and a perfect view of Park Avenue and the surrounding buildings. You wouldn’t think it’s beautiful, considering we’re surrounded by skyscrapers, but at night, with all the lights on, and the bustling street below, it is actually quite stunning. I spy the sofa again, and do a mental calculation of Thorin’s size. He should fit.
“You can take the sofa,” I say, opening up Eli’s bag, and taking out his bottle, formula and bottle warmer. I think he has more luggage than Thorin and I do. We considered leaving him in Texas, and having Maggie look after him, but by some giant fucking miracle, Thorin and I agreed that we have to learn to fit Eli in with our work schedules. We can’t leave him with Maggie every time we have to travel, or hand him off to someone else when we have to work. Those are just not the type of guardians we want to be, and we’re lucky to both have flexible schedules, at least until Thorin goes on tour again.
Thorin snorts, “No way,” and carries Eli to the bathroom. He runs the bath, testing the temperature, and then lays Eli down on the bed to undress him. For a moment I’m caught up in how naturally Thorin does his thing with Eli, the gentleness he uses to maneuver him out of his clothes, and the way his voice softens when he speaks to him. It’s so not the time for my ovaries to take notice, but they do. Inconvenient things, ovaries. Like why, just why!
“We’re not sharing a bed,” I tell his back, following him into the bathroom with Eli’s bath stuff. Even when we argue, we have this weird way of being in sync with Eli. He kneels down, and slowly lowers Eli into the water. “You can take the sofa, Reese. You’re smaller than I am, I’m sure you’ll be comfortable.”
“Uh, I don’t think so.”
Rather than responding, he focuses on bathing Eli, and I throw my hands up, leaving the bathroom completely defeated after this day. Whatthefuckever, Universe, okay? You win.
I shoot a text to Mya, explaining what’s happened, and like the good friend she is, she replies with have fun with that ;).
“Great,” I mutter to myself. “Some friend you are.” I shake my head. I wouldn’t be surprised if she orchestrated this whole thing. If only. No, this is just shitty luck because, apparently, I haven’t reached my quota of shitty luck yet. I move my bag into the bedroom just as Thorin comes out. Eli is dressed in his itty-bitty pj’s, and without preamble, I go about making him a bottle real quick, taking him from Thorin. While I get Eli fed, and ready for bed, Thorin takes a quick shower, and it takes every ounce of self-restraint I can muster not to think about all that muslcey, wet, nekidness. It’s a struggle, but I focus on Eli, and once I’ve burped him, I rock him to sleep. I lay him in the basinet on my side of the bed, and unpack a few things for my own shower. Thorin walks out, wearing nothing but grey boxer briefs, his dry hair hanging over his shoulders, and I scowl, stomping past him and locking myself in the bathroom. I step under the hot spray, and allow the tension to leave my shoulders, my back, my legs. I wash my hair, taking extra long just to avoid having to leave the bathroom, and when I’ve dried my long tresses, lathered every inch of my skin with moisturizer, I have no choice but to walk into the bedroom. And find Thorin splayed on the side I’d already, technically, claimed. His arm is behind his head, his lower half covered by the duvet. He eyes me, and I feel his gaze travel down the length of my body. I’m in my favorite silk pajama set—spaghetti strap camisole, and shorts. I should have opted for more coverage, but if Thorin is so intent on making himself comfortable, then why shouldn’t I? Of course, my nipples choose that moment to harden, the peaks poking at the silk covering my breasts. With a huff, I ignore the way Thorin watches me, throw back the covers and climb in next to him, immediately giving him my back without so much as a ‘goodnight’. This situation couldn’t possibly get any worse, right? Wrong. Because when Thorin switches off his bedside lamp, and gets real comfortable, I’m about an inch from falling off the bed. Splayed on his back, he takes up three-quarters of the damn mattress.
“Can you move over?” I whisper-hiss, glaring at him from over my shoulder. “Or at least roll onto your side? I barely have any space.”
The mattress dips, and then Thorin’s hot breath hits the back of my head, sending shivers down my spine. Because that’s just super convenient right now.
“Better?” He whispers.
