Chapter Six
Sydney is pissed.
I watch as she gets on her tiptoes and leans farther forward on the counter that separates her from the hotel clerk. Her voice is hushed but full of derision as she grinds out every word. The poor clerk’s eyes grow wide as saucers at her clipped remarks and sweat begins to bead at his temples.
“I don’t understand, Stewart. How is it possible that I booked two rooms but only one is available?”
“With so many events this weekend and the snowstorm grounding flights, we ran out of rooms.”
“I booked these rooms two weeks ago. Not one day ago, two weeks ago. And you’re telling me that one of them was just,” Sydney pauses to flick her wrist dramatically, “given away?”
The clerk, Stewart, visibly swallows. I feel a little bad for the lad, having to go toe to toe with Syd. He doesn’t look a day over eighteen.
“Again, Ms. Lake, because you checked in so late and we hadn’t heard from you all day—”
“Because we also got stuck in the snowstorm,” she interrupts with a huff. “We got stuck and now we want our rooms, but you have given one of them away, so what am I supposed to do, Stewart?”
Our plane was stuck in a holding pattern for an extra hour in the air because there wasn’t sufficient visibility to land. All in all, it’s taken fifteen hours since we left the apartment this morning to reach Denver. It’s well past midnight, and I need to be up in a few hours to prep before the tournament.
When the clerk doesn’t respond, Syd bolsters on. “I would like to speak with the person in charge, please. This is ridiculous.”
Stewart’s face turns three shades paler before he splutters out, “The manager is also stuck in the storm and has been unable to come in.”
I swear I see a blood vessel pop on Sydney’s forehead.
We’re getting nowhere.
And as much as I love to see Syd battling it out with one of our rival hotel chains, I also desperately want a hot shower and a good night’s sleep. There’s nothing a low-level employee can do at this stage, and I would rather step on hot coals than call up Jace Kelton for a favor.
I wasted my last one when I broke in and skinny-dipped in his Vegas rooftop pool a few years back.
“Syd, let’s just take the room, and I’ll deal with the compensation later.” I give her shoulder a squeeze as I sidle up next to her.
Sydney’s narrowed gaze flicks to me before shooting back to the clerk.
“Fine,” she grinds out even though it’s clear to all of us that everything is not.
Poor Stewart shakes as he holds out the key card for us. “Your suite number is nineteen twenty-three. You can take the west elevators, which are located left of the statue. Breakfast is served starting at six at the buffet and in our restaurant at eight.”
Ugh. That hideous white marble polar bear statue. It’s almost ten feet tall and placed ostentatiously in the center of the entry hall. How the Keltons ever thought that was a tasteful decision escapes me. Now, the ice sculpture at the Covington Hotel in Norway? That’s a great design choice.
I gingerly pluck the key card from Stewart before looping my arm around Sydney and steering her away before she melts the boy to death with her glare.
“This is why we always stay at Covington Hotels,” I comment under my breath. “We’d never have a managerless hotel.”
“You guys don’t even have a hotel in Colorado,” she shoots back with a hiss.
“Yet.”
“Metaphorical hotels do not help us here.”
“Yes, but the hotel you did book is owned by one of our biggest rivals.”
“Every hotel is your rival.”
“Which is why you could’ve picked a quaint bed and breakfast.” I shrug letting go of our luggage so I can scan our key card for the lift. It beeps and directs us to enter elevator five.
“You would stay in a B and B?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” I pull us into the opening lift. It has a glass backing so you can look out onto the rest of the hotel as you shoot up to your floor.
Sydney snorts. “Sure, whatever you say, English. Just remember that.”
She tries to shrug out of my hold, but I just pull her closer. Her nose is still red from waiting out in the cold earlier.
She’s more exhausted than I thought because she doesn’t fight back. In fact, it almost feels like she is leaning into my side. Thank God she is wearing her coat right now. The layer serves as a barrier between me and her soft body.
We finally reach the nineteenth floor and follow the little arrows to our room. Naturally, it is at the very end of an already long hallway.
By the time I see the silver placard denoting “Room 1923,” I’m ready to fall to my knees.
I scan the key card, and Sydney dips out from under my arm. The loss of her petite body is immediate. She fit me so perfectly, and not having her cradled against my side feels like a sin.
She strolls into the suite ahead of me, leaving me to follow with our luggage. I can’t even admire her perky ass because of that damn wool coat covering it.
Never was an ass man until I met Sydney Lake, but there is no denying the goods she is carrying.
I dump our luggage by the closet in the small lounge area before collapsing onto the cream couch. This isn’t the Kelton’s best hotel in the States. The suite is smaller compared to their normal standards, not that the regular person would notice. The upside is that it does have a balcony.
“What the hell is this?” Sydney speaks the words with deathly precision.
I look up and peer around the partial wall that separates the lounge area from the bedroom.
“I believe most people would call that a bed,” I toe off my sneakers, “or le lit if we were in France.”
She spins around, shooting me daggers.
“There’s one bed, Parker,” she deadpans.
“I see that.”
“We can’t sleep in one bed.”
“I mean; it looks like a king. I doubt you would take up more than a quarter of the bed.”
“That is not the point.”
I know that’s not the point. But I’m worried that if I don’t calm her down, she’s going to make me sleep on the couch, and I really don’t want to sleep on the couch. I’m not made for couch sleeping. I would probably call Jace and make him kick some poor sap out of their room before sleeping on the couch.
I also can’t deny that there is another part of me—a stiffening part of me—that gets a thrill out of the idea of sharing a bed with Sydney
“I’ll just sleep on the couch.” She takes off her coat and tosses it onto the nearby desk chair.
I take everything back.
I’d sooner sleep on the couch than make Sydney sleep there.
“You can’t sleep on the couch, Syd.”
“It looks like a very nice couch.”
Of course it does. This is the Kelton, after all. You don’t get crappy couches at a five-star hotel.
Instead of arguing with her, I just walk over to where she is pacing and pick her up by the hips. She lets out a squeal of protest before I toss her onto the bed.
“Parker Covington, what do you—oomph!” She bounces a few times before sinking deep into the mattress. “Oh my God.” She runs her hands over the duvet. “This is so soft.”
The image of her sprawled out on the bed burns itself into the back of my brain, and I tamp down a strangled groan. Instead, I give a noncommittal hum as she distracts herself with the bed, crossing back to grab my luggage.
As much as I like to shit on Jace and tear apart his family’s hotels, I can’t deny that the one thing they always get right are their beds. They’re like sleeping on a cloud of fairy floss.
I grab my toiletries out of my roller bag, and a pair of briefs, before trekking into the bathroom. I’m not masochistic enough to subject myself to a cold shower just to erase the image of Syd from my mind, but I do spend longer than necessary under the spray trying to empty my thoughts of the blonde bombshell on the bed.
By the time I return from the bathroom, Sydney is drifting off to sleep on top of the duvet. Part of me says to just let her be, to allow her to fall asleep. The other part of me, the one that grew up with two older sisters, tells me that she is going to be mad at herself in the morning when she realizes she fell asleep in her makeup.
I can practically hear Paige scolding me.
“Don’t be daft, Parker. A girl’s skincare routine is sacred.”
Sighing, I pick up Syd’s overnight bag and drop it on the foot of the bed. I give her shoulder a quick nudge, but she just turns over and snuggles deeper.
She looks like an angel. Her hands are cradled under her cheek, and her chest rises and falls with slow breaths. I’m tempted to crawl behind her and scoop her into my arms.
Instead, I poke her again.
Harder.
“Love, you can’t fall asleep yet.”
“Why not?” Her voice comes out quiet and crackly.
“Because you’re still in your airplane clothes and your makeup.”
Her eyes squeeze tight as she lets out a groan. She rolls over, and they pop open. As always, those beautiful silver eyes steal all the breath in my body. With a sigh, she swings off the bed.
I hold her overnight bag out to her, and she takes it with a grumble, trudging into the bathroom and shutting the frosted door behind her. The sound of the shower turning on fills the silence.
My lips dry as I imagine her taking off her clothes just a few meters away.
I let loose a strangled laugh before crawling into my side of the bed.
I double-check that all my alarms are set for the morning before shutting off my lamp. The only light left is the one filtering in from the bathroom, but it’s not bright enough to bother me as I close my eyes. I’m knackered, and I need all the sleep I can get to be at my best tomorrow afternoon.
That’s the one good thing about gaming competitions; they tend to be later in the day.
I can feel the edges of sleep creeping in when the room brightens and Syd pads out of the bathroom. I squeeze my eyes shut to cancel out the light.
“I’m not sleeping in the same bed as you, Parker.”
“It’s almost two a.m. Please, just get in the bed.”
The bathroom light turns off, and I hear her shuffle around, bumping into the bed in the process.
“It’s unprofessional, Parker. Mathias would have my head if he found out.”
As much of a hard-ass as our manager might be, Mathias couldn’t give a flying fuck about our personal lives. That’s why he hired Syd in the first place.
I roll over and reach out, grabbing her arm and pulling her onto the bed. She lands centimeters away from my face. Her dewy skin glistens in the faint moonlight, and it takes what little sanity I have left to not run my thumb over her cheek. Her lips haven’t been this close to mine in years. Not since That Night.
“Get in the bed, Sydney.” My voice takes on a low growl.
Her lips part slightly before quickly pursing. “Fine.” Her gaze flickers over my face. “Just make sure to keep to your side.”
She tugs out of my grasp and shifts back to her side of the bed. Grabbing one of her pillows, she positions it in between us and attempts to fluff it a few times. I try not to laugh at the action, but it’s kind of cute.
Once she’s happy with its placement she scoots so far away that I wouldn’t be surprised if she fell off the edge of the bed during the night.
“Good night, Sydney.”
She turns her back to me. “Good night, Parker.”