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My gaze wanders around the room, watching people smile and chat as they sip cocktails at the post-dinner mixer. I’d planned to stick with water tonight, not wanting to even chance a repeat of last night’s antics, but after the long, stressful day I’ve had, I went straight to the bar and ordered a drink.
Just one. Just enough vodka to settle my nerves and help me relax.
My edginess is all Royal’s fault. After my insane reaction at seeing him flirt with Boobalicious Barbie at breakfast, I was angry at myself and totally confused. Then, at the first panel, he noticed I was cold and gave me his shirt, which sent me spinning in a complete one-eighty. It was a kind and thoughtful gesture, sentiments I never thought I’d associate with Royal Manning twenty-four hours ago. He keeps proving me wrong and changing my opinion of him, and it’s thrown me off-kilter.
Add to that the way his scent wafted off his shirt, making my heart pound and my thighs clench, and yeah, I’ve been a bit of a wreck today.
Plus, there’s been no escaping him. He attended all the same panels as me, making sure to save me a seat when he arrived first or swooping in to snag the chair next to me when I beat him to the room. I remained on pins and needles all day, bracing for either another kind gesture or a return of his usual obnoxious, annoying self…all while being unsure which version of him I prefer.
It’s all very confusing, and while I know this drink won’t clear things up for me, it’s doing its job by relaxing my coiled muscles and giving my mind a pleasant buzz. A soft, blurry edge that eases my uncertainty and irritation.
“Hey, Callie,” a voice says, and when I turn my head toward it, my lips curve up.
“Shannon. Hey,” I say, hugging her back when she leans in to embrace me. “What are you doing here again this year?”
“None of my third grade team members could make it this weekend, so I got to come again,” she says, grinning. Turning to the two people beside her, she says, “You know Adam, and this is Barb. She teaches kindergarten in Tulare.”
I nod in greeting to both of them, and they return the gesture. I’ve known Shannon since my first year attending this thing, and we always hook up to hang out in the evening once the panels and workshops are done for the day. I met Adam three years ago, and he’s one of the most extroverted people I’ve ever met. He’s always a lot of fun.
“We’re going out to a karaoke bar tonight,” he says, rubbing his palms together and grinning a bit maniacally. “You’re in, right? Please say you’re in.”
His excitement is infectious, and I find myself laughing as I nod. “I’m definitely in.”
“In for what?”
My entire body tenses at the sound of that all too familiar voice, and the warm buzz I was feeling evaporates. I glance over to see Royal watching me expectantly, and when I don’t respond, he crinkles his eyebrows and turns his attention to the other three.
“Hey, Royal,” Barb says, and my gaze lances through her before I can stop it.
I relax when I see her expression holds only a slight affection and no real sexual interest. And when I realize what I’m doing, I tense up again. What in the hell is wrong with me? This has got to stop.
“Royal Manning,” my temporary roommate says, stretching a hand toward Adam, and I realize I’ve failed to introduce him and made this whole thing as awkward as it could possibly be.
Shaking my head and forcing a short laugh, I say, “Sorry. Sorry. Royal, this is Adam, and that’s Shannon. This is my…coworker, Royal.”
Adam takes Royal’s hand in a firm shake while I studiously ignore Shannon’s raised eyebrows. She’s listened to me complain about Royal being a pain in my ass many times, and I can read her expression like a book with large print.
You never told me he was hot.
I narrow my eyes and shake my head slightly, and she mouths the word “later” before snapping her attention back to Adam, who’s started to speak.
“We’re going out for karaoke in an hour. You should join us.”
I cast my eyes toward Royal, and he starts to grin, but it drops as he turns his head to look at me with a questioning gaze. He obviously wants to go, but he won’t accept unless I’m good with it. He’s asking permission, and a warmth rushes through me at his consideration. He won’t accept the invitation if his presence will make me at all uncomfortable or put a damper on my evening with my friends.
I nod slightly, my lips twitching at the corners. His expression smooths out, his relief and pleasure palpable. He looks back at Adam and smiles widely.
“I’m in.”
“Great! We’re meeting at The K Lounge at nine. It’s only a block away, so no need to drive.”
“Sounds good,” Royal says, rocking back on his heels as he shoves his hands into his pockets.
The others say their goodbyes, and Shannon gives me a pointed look that says “we will be discussing this later” before they turn and wander off. When they’re out of earshot, Royal turns to me with an earnest expression.
“I don’t want you to feel like I put you on the spot. If you really don’t want me to go, I won’t. I don’t want to ruin your fun with your friends.”
“No, it’s fine,” I say, then swallow thickly before adding, “I want you to come.”
“Good,” he says, his smile widening to show off his white teeth. “I actually love karaoke.”
“You do?” I ask, cocking my head.
“I do,” he says, nodding enthusiastically.
“Are you any good?”
He tilts his forehead toward me, his eyes boring into mine, and his voice filled with arrogance as he says, “Come on, Callie. You know I’m good at everything.”
Laughter bubbles out of me, and Royal’s smile softens. My heart trips in my chest as I realize this might be the first time I’ve taken his cocky behavior as a joke, and maybe this is how he’s always intended it to come across. That I let my dislike of his teaching methods color every interaction we’ve ever had.
And maybe I actually am the asshole.
“I’m, uh, going to head up to the room to get ready,” I blurt, needing a moment away from him to sort this realization out.
“Okay,” he says. “I’ll give you some privacy and be up in a little while.”
“Thanks,” I murmur, then nod shakily before turning and striding away.
Gulping down the last of my drink, I set the glass on an empty table on my way out. I don’t make eye contact with anyone as I head for the bank of elevators. I have no desire to be waylaid for any reason. I need to be alone.
I push through the room door the second the lock beeps at my keycard, pushing it closed and leaning back against it and taking a few deep breaths. I’m okay. Everything is okay. Just because I’m seeing Royal in a new light doesn’t mean I need to feel like shit for the way I saw him before this weekend, right?
I mean, he fed into my dislike, pushing all my buttons at every opportunity. He should’ve stopped when he saw my anger, realizing I wasn’t taking his ribbing as it was always intended. No, he double-downed, looking for ways to piss me off…like he enjoyed it. Like getting a reaction out of me has always been the highlight of his day.
Or I’m just reading too much into this. Maybe Royal really has felt the same way about me as I have him, and spending time together this weekend has opened his eyes like it has mine. Maybe he’s just realized I’m not so bad. And if he knows I’ve been making the same realization about him, his constant proximity today could be his way to foster these newfound feelings of comradery because he just doesn’t want to go back to being mortal enemies on Monday morning.
Hell.
That actually makes way more sense than the idea that Royal likes me and has just been “pulling my pigtails” since the day we met. The thought relaxes my muscles, and I push away from the door. And if there’s a slight twinge of disappointment bouncing around in my gut, I’m determined to ignore it. It’s better this way. Royal and I becoming friends is cataclysmic enough. I don’t need to add any pesky romantic urges into the mix.
Grabbing some clothes, I head into the bathroom to change just in case Royal decides to turn up. Him walking in on me half-naked would be bad. Very, very bad.
Pulling off the clothes I’ve had on all day, I quickly change into a pair of tight jeans, a strapless bra, and a soft, gray sweater that hangs off one shoulder. After brushing my teeth and applying a fresh coat of deodorant, I run my fingers through my hair to fluff it and paint on a smoky eye before swiping on some mascara. Patting a pink tinting cream on the apples of my cheeks, I blend it before smoothing on some cherry lip balm.
I hear a faint beeping sound just before the hotel room door swishes open, and I freeze. My nerves spike as I check my appearance for any flaws, then I silently chastise myself for that reaction. I don’t want Royal to think I look good. His opinion on my appearance means nothing.
Stiffening my spine, I unlock the door and swing it open before marching out of the bathroom. But the second my eyes land on Royal, I freeze on the spot like a stump in the petrified forest.
Royal is facing away from me, tugging his shirt over his head to reveal his very broad, very bare back. I watch with fascination as the tendons and muscles shift and bunch while he picks up a clean shirt and pulls it over his head. Sticking his arms through the sleeves, he tugs the hem down, covering all that tanned skin. I swallow the saliva pooling in my mouth as he turns to face me.
He startles slightly like he didn’t realize I’d come out of the bathroom, then his gaze searches my face as I continue to stare with wide, dumbfounded eyes. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. He’s caught me staring, and I’m not exactly hiding the fact that I liked what I saw.
Before he can smirk or make me the butt of some joke, I avert my eyes, push past him, and slide my feet into the sandals I’d left in the corner by the balcony doors. I still don’t look his way as I shimmy past him again, grab my purse, phone, and room key off my bed, and mumble something about meeting him in the lobby before escaping out into the hallway.
“Jesus,” I murmur under my breath as I shuffle toward the elevators.
That was awkward. And uncomfortable.
I step onto the elevator the second it opens, then stab the button for the lobby before repeatedly pushing the one that closes the doors. I close my eyes and breathe a sigh of relief the second they seal tight, then pop my eyes open again when all I can see behind my eyelids is the image of Royal’s naked back.
“What is wrong with me?” I growl under my breath.
I don’t know the answer to that, but I do know one thing. This is going to be a very long night.
At least there will be alcohol.