Chapter Nineteen
My hair had still been damp as I took a seat in the back of the hall, but I had plenty of time to feel it slowly drying over the course of two, three, and then four interminable presentations.
My notes little more than the titles of the session and then a few abortive sentences.
Only the fear of having to awkwardly explain at the office kept me from ditching, that and not knowing how things would be with Kai when I got back to the room.
Finally, though, that time could no longer be avoided. As I slowly walked down the corridor from the elevator, I tried to steel myself inside. String my jumbled thoughts together, into something I could cling to.
It had been a summer fling. The sex had been great. I’d had a chance to be with a guy far, far out of my league. Nothing like that lasts forever. And, maybe most important, for the love of all that’s good and holy, Tate, don’t be a fucking downer about this for the rest of the trip.
A deep breath, as I slid my keycard into the lock and pushed open the door. Kai was on the sofa by the window, flicking at his phone; he looked up, with a tentative half-smile as I stepped inside and dropped my bag.
“Hey,” he said, voice low.
I forced myself to give him as broad a smile as I could manage. “Hey to you, too,” I heard myself say. Corny, but better than nothing. “How was your afternoon?”
He stretched his legs out, dropping his phone on the coffee table and running his fingers through his hair. I allowed myself a moment to notice the way his t-shirt rode up as he did it, the firm contours of his stomach exposed where his waist narrowed, teasingly, into his jeans.
“Pretty okay,” he replied. “Swam some more. They have a gym, so I went there for a bit. Then I took a walk before coming back here.”
I turned to my suitcase, picking through for something more casual to wear. “I’m sorry if you were bored.”
“Nah,” Kai said “it was good to have some time away. A change of scenery, y’know, and time to just think.”
Never before had I so wanted a machine that could read minds.
“I’m gonna shower,” I told him, “and then, well, I don’t know if you’re getting hungry?”
He nodded. “Sure, that sounds good.”
Bathroom door closed behind me, I gripped the edge of the sink with both hands.
Jaw clenched and eyes squeezed shut. Silently berated myself for having ever got myself into this situation.
For daring to ever stupidly believe that some young guy’s vacation convenience-fuck could ever be something more.
I’d done exactly what I’d told myself not to do.
Caught feelings for someone unobtainable, and turned what was meant to be a fun few months of sex and messing around into yet another opportunity for my stupid brain to sabotage my life.
I could feel the groan of frustration at myself churning in my stomach, threatening to whine its way out of me.
Instead, I forced myself to turn on the shower and peel off the day’s clothes. Step under the thundering water and try to let its white noise drown out the accumulated idiocy in my head.
By the time the mechanics of the process had lulled me - if not into contentment, then at least composure - I was ready to open the door and face the evening.
Not, though, to find Kai standing in front of the mirror, legs bare and his muscled ass filling out a pair of briefs, as he buttoned up a shirt.
“Hey,” he said, making eye-contact with my reflection.
I swallowed. Somehow the Kai in my memory didn’t ever manage to live up to the living, breathing, fucking stunning Kai of real life.
“Hey to you, too,” I replied, then winced at my own, dreary repetition. It was taking everything I had not to walk over, peel down the briefs that were clinging, spray-tight, to his cheeks, and push my face in-between his legs. “What do you want to eat tonight?”
He shrugged, reaching for his jeans.
“There’s a bistro place that does burgers and stuff, or a nicer place if you want steak, and I think a Chinese buffet or something like that,” I carried on. Silence still. “Or we could just get room-service, or try to find somewhere outside of the hotel.”
“I’m really fine with anything,” Kai said, noncommittally.
I fought the urge to grit my teeth.
“Okay, bistro it is.”