Page 6
“If only,” he mutters under his breath, and it’s as if those two little words were spoken straight to my pussy. A damn whimper escapes me.
When was the last time I got laid?
He clears his throat and sets the clothes on the edge of the bed with the key on top of them. “Take your time. I’ll be outside if you need anything.”
Before I can protest, he walks out of the room, the loud click of the door sealing his promise. I blow out a long breath. Admittedly, it was bad enough that I rushed from the hot tub in just a bathing suit and a towel. It would be unprofessional of me to go down to the lobby dressed this way, dripping pool water with every step.
Taking Wyatt up on the offer, I hop in the shower to rinse off the chlorine, blow-dry my hair, then change into his clothes. The shirt fits tight around my bust and hips, accentuating my curves, and the pants are snug around my thighs and belly. It doesn’t help that I’m not wearing a bra.
Quickly blow-drying my damp bathing suit top to wear under the shirt, I groan, “Now isn’t the time to body-shame yourself. You’re beautiful, talented, and… staying next door to a hot-as-fuck man you ghosted a few years ago. Oh, and apparently he’s also an author.”
After adding the thin layer to hopefully mask my nipples, I walk out to the bedroom and can’t help myself. I march over to the stack of books on the desk to find out what he writes. All of them are romance novels written by W. Vennlig.
Fuck.
4
WYATT
The moment I hear the shower turn on, I call Ethan. It rings three times, and as I’m about to hang up, he gleefully answers, “Hey, Wyatt.”
“Don’t you ‘hey, Wyatt’ me. I know you’re the one who upgraded my suite and asked that I be put in the room beside Sloane.”
He barks out a laugh. “You’re kidding me, right? Sure, I upgraded you, but I had nothing to do with your room being next to hers.”
“Well, it is. She’s locked out of her room and”—I slide my hand through my hair as I let out a long sigh—“now she’s in my shower.”
“Mel, you’re not going to believe this,” Ethan speaks away from the phone. “Wyatt is next door to Sloane.” He resumes his laughter but talks through it. “And, get this, she’s locked out of her room and showering in his. I’m pretty sure this is the start of a second-chance romance or something.”
I can’t hear what she’s telling him, but I still insist, “It isn’t like that!” Afraid my voice may be carrying, I lower it. “She remembers me. I’m not sure what I did to offend her years ago, but I figured the nice thing to do would be to let her freshen up before going down to the lobby. We’re…” I search for the right word. “Colleagues. Nothing more.”
“You do know you just jinxed yourself, right? What next? Maintenance can’t open her door, the hotel is out of extra rooms… and you have to share a bed?”
I can’t help but chuckle. “For your information, I have two beds.”
“I know. That’s why I had the hotel switch rooms.”
The water shuts off, and I whisper, “I have to go, but I swear if you don’t stop meddling, I’m going to—”
“What? Run off to the casino chapel and marry her?”
“This isn’t funny,” I grit out.
“I don’t know, sounds pretty damn funny to me. If she doesn’t have plans tomorrow night, invite her to dinner with us. I’m sure in twenty-four hours you’ll be madly in love. I’ll even get Sage or Eddie to plan the wedding. How does next spring sound?”
I groan, rubbing a hand down my face. “That’s not going to happen. But if you want me to invite her, it will be just as friends.”
“With benefits,” Melanie shouts.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Not waiting for his reply, I hang up. While he may not have arranged for my room to be next to hers, it doesn’t change the fact that this weekend has started off on the wrong foot.
A few minutes later, Sloane hesitantly opens the door, peeking her head out. “I’m finished. Thank you for letting me change. I should, um… Here’s your key.”
I try to mask my disappointment as she passes me the card. Though, how could I not be? She opens the door wider, and even with the sweatpants being a little long for her, my heart nearly jumps out of my chest at seeing her in my clothes. My mind wanders, imagining her sleeping in them tonight. If she borrows them, will they smell like her when I get them back? I’ll never want to wash them again.
Fuck, that’s a creepy thought.
I brush it away, then clear my throat and adjust my glasses. “No problem. I’m going to get changed, but if you need anything, you know where to find me.”
