Chapter 37 Hungry?
Hungry?
Connor
Iuse the phone on the nightstand to call in our room service order. A burger and fries for Maize and a club sandwich for me. I ask if they have ice cream too, but they don’t. I wonder if I could sneak out and grab her some before the storm hits.
As my mind spins with ideas on how to get Maisie some ice cream, I hear her sigh through the wall to the bathroom. My head turns sharply toward the sound, and my pants become a little too tight, all my senses tuning into that one sound.
What the hell am I going to do? From the moment I first saw her, I was attracted to her, and now that I know her?
Know how funny and goofy and brave and kind she is?
It feels like my whole body is pulling me toward her all the time, chanting Maisie!
Maisie! Maisie! I’m not going to be able to hide my desire, but the last thing I want is to make her uncomfortable.
I pace the room, trying to burn off some of this excess energy when I hear the shower turn off.
Her clothes. She didn’t take her clothes with her.
She’s going to come out here in a towel.
Without thinking, I lunge toward the room door to give her some privacy, but then the bathroom door pops open.
I turn on instinct. She isn’t looking at me, and our paths collide before I can do anything about it.
I feel damp skin pressed along the length of my body from my chest down, but I’m not looking at her. The sensation of her naked body crushed against me, even through my clothes, sends my heart rate into an uncontrollable rhythm.
She squeaks before rushing out, “Shit, Connor, I…I’m…” There’s a long pause. “The towel fell,” she whispers.
I know the towel fell, damn it. I can feel the lack of towel.
All of my brain cells are currently working in overdrive to not look down, so I have none left to verbally reply to her.
The bulge in my pants is growing involuntarily.
I hear her breath hitch. The warmth of it against my chest only adds to the assault on my senses.
Somehow, my brain comes back online, and I manage to say, “I’ll close my eyes and turn toward the door. You grab your towel and go get changed.”
She gulps, and I feel the sharp pebbling of her nipples against my torso. I squeeze my eyes shut and slowly shift my body away from hers and toward the door. My shirt is wet, and I feel a chill run down my spine, but it’s not from the cold. I hear her soft shuffle toward the other side of the room.
Grandma’s face mole. Taxes. Soggy bread. I mentally run through anything to get my mind off the feel of her naked body pressed against me. Praying it cools my desire and my, uh, member down.
In a moment that feels simultaneously like a lifetime and no time at all, she says, “Okay, you can turn around now.”
I can’t make myself move. I’m glued to this spot. RIP Connor. Died from lack of movement from desiring his best friend too damn much.
I’m ripped from my morbid thoughts when Maisie says, “Connor?”
“Yeah?” I manage to get out. My voice sounds unfamiliar.
“I said you can turn around now.” It’s her tone that finally makes me move. That nervous energy infused into her regularly honeyed voice. I don’t want her to feel embarrassed.
I take a deep breath, slowly turning to face her.
I work hard to keep my face neutral, but my jaw clenches.
Her being clothed does nothing to stop the burning I feel for her.
She pushes a strand of hair behind her ear and looks away, crossing her arms in the process.
Hiding from me the best she can in the cramped space.
I take slow, deliberate steps to close the space between us, not wanting to spook her. Her eyes still refuse to meet mine until I’m directly in front of her. She looks up, but there’s a crease between her brows.
“I called in our room service,” I stammer out, “but they didn’t have ice cream.
Who doesn’t have ice cream? Don’t they know everyone likes ice cream?
It would be their bestseller. Obviously.
” I roll my eyes dramatically. Her lips crack into a reserved smile.
“I was actually thinking of running out to grab some from a gas station or something. That was why I, uh, ran into you…the way I did.”
Her eyes widen in alarm, and she draws her lip between her teeth.
I reach out, cupping her face gently and using the pad of my thumb to encourage her to release her death grip on her now-swollen lip.
As her mouth opens in surprise, I let my finger trail along the length of it once before dropping my hand.
I can’t believe I just did that, but she isn’t running for the hills. Maybe this attraction goes more than one way. I step a little further into her space. She fidgets, rocking side to side, eyes bouncing like she’s unsure where to look. I reach out and squeeze her hand once.
“Please don’t be embarrassed. Not with me.” I stroke a thumb over her hand, and she shivers.
“Okay,” she says in a breathy whisper, leaning in.
We’re so close, I need to tilt my chin down to see her, our lips mere inches away. My hand that isn’t holding hers finds her waist and snakes around to the small of her back. The movement forces her even closer, and I’m leaning in for a kiss when a knock sounds at the door.
We jump apart. What the hell?
Her cheeks are flushed, eyes wide. Why did someone have to knock now?
I frown but march toward the door, opening it almost violently—taking out my frustration on the inanimate object so I don’t direct it at the human standing behind it.
“Room service,” the freckle-speckled teen says.
I move out of the way so he can roll the cart into the room.
I peek at Maisie. She’s in the same spot across the room, but her hand is at her mouth.
She looks dazed, puzzled maybe. I reach into my pocket for my wallet and tip the kid—who seems like he’s fourteen—and I wait as he scurries out of the room.
As soon as I shut the door, I loose a breath and turn back toward a still-stunned Maisie.
“Hungry?” I ask.