Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
In less than five minutes, I’m wondering if by some fucked twist of fate my own wish is trying to come true. I suppose that’s the power of wishing and luck that June always talks about.
“I don’t understand. My reservation was clearly for two separate rooms,” I repeat for what feels like the tenth time.
My pulse is pounding, and even though I know I look and sound like an asshole, I can’t stop.
Not when my reservation is currently fucked, not when it means my only option might just be spending the night in a hotel room with June.
“I understand that, Mr. Hawthorne. Unfortunately, something has gone wrong on the back-end system, and only one room was reserved,” the receptionist says, genuine apology in the words. “And as I previously informed you, with the festival in town, we have no other rooms. We are fully booked.”
“This is ridiculous,” I grumble. “I would like to talk to your ma—”
I don’t get the chance to finish my sentence, though, because June’s hand covers my mouth before I can speak. I turn to glare at her, but she’s smiling, sweet as pie, at the receptionist.
“I am so sorry, it’s been a very long night, so we’re both a bit tired.
I totally understand this is not your fault and also very out of your control, and we appreciate all you’ve done to try and help us.
The room keys will be just fine. We can figure it out from here,” June says.
The receptionist stares between us, a mix of confusion and entertainment written across her face.
“No problem at all. Of course, we will be refunding the cost, since this was an error on our end.” Her fingers move back to her clacking keyboard, and I open my mouth to say something once more, but June tightens her hand on me.
Despite the bubbling irritation, I find myself smiling beneath her hand.
June feels it, inevitably, looking over at me and giving me one of her own beaming grins.
The woman finishes checking us in, sliding two keycards our way before she finally lowers her hand.
I open my mouth to say something, but June gives me a glare and points at me.
“Behave.”
I have no option but to smile at her.
“Thank you so much,” June says, taking the keycards.
The receptionist points us toward the elevators and tells us the room number and floor before we’re on our way.
June reaches for the bags, her multicolored patchwork duffel sitting on top of my black rollerbag, but I glare at her, grab the handle, and go.
When we’re closed into the elevator, all entertainment washes away with the memory of what happened the last time we were in an elevator together. Pressing her against the wall, kissing her, grinding into her. The need that rushed through me, the exhilaration that I was going to have her.
That same need thrums in my veins, and I wonder just how I’m going to survive the night. I’m silent, stuck in my thoughts as the elevator rises, then dings on our floor, and we make our way to our room.
“Is this really that miserable of a situation?” June asks, finally breaking the silence once the door closes behind us, shutting us into a luxury room.
I don’t have the opportunity to look it over as I always do when I’m in a competitor’s hotel, stuck on the way the slamming door felt final, like the last nail in the coffin.
She’s standing there, stunning and sun-kissed, most of the sparkles gone from her face and hair by now, her bathing suit top still the most tempting thing I’ve ever seen, and I know there’s no way I can stay away.
What’s the point, anyway?
“I’m sorry?”
“Is this really that miserable of a situation? Having to spend the night with me?” She moves to her bag, grabs it, and digs through to find something. “We’ve done it once before, and you survived just fine.”
“That was different,” I tell her, crossing my arms on my chest. “That was before you worked for me.”
“Technically, it wasn’t, but that’s not the point, and you know it.
” I open my mouth, and she turns to me, standing straight with a firm look and a finger raised.
“And don’t even try some bullshit about against the rules and blah blah blah.
Sutton told me it wasn't, and I double-checked to make sure. The only fraternization rule is that higher-ups must be informed.”
I lift an eyebrow, fighting back a smile.
“You looked it up in the handbook?”
A blush moves over her cheeks, but her stern look doesn’t falter.
“Hell yeah, I did. Strangely enough, I like this job. I also can’t deny that I’m into you.
” I step closer to her, but she keeps going.
“You’re funny, if in a dry way. And you’re smart.
And you’re insanely hot. You’re also nice when you want to be, though you rarely do want to be.
I like talking to you because you always make me think of things in a new way.
I like the way you look at me when you don’t think I’m watching.
I like the way you entertain my idiosyncrasies rather than simply enduring them.
I like the way you looked for four-leaf clovers with me, and the way you make wishes at 11:11 because I ask you to, and the way you protected me through a concert that you didn’t even want to go to.
I like the way you pretended to be my boyfriend because my bully was hitting on you, and the way you let me show you around my town simply because you know it’s my favorite place on earth.
But most of all, Graham, I like you. And I think you like me, too. ”
Silence hangs in the air between us, and my pulse races, but hers does, too, something I can see in her neck, where I desperately want to press my lips. Her breathing is heavy as she holds my gaze, reaching into her pocket for something.
“So, I think we should stop playing this stupid game and let luck decide what we do next.” She opens her hand, holding it out to me, and a tiny copper circle sits in the palm of her hand.
“Is that—?” I start.
“The penny you gave me? Yeah. I keep it on me just in case I need to make an important decision.” My pulse quickens.
“Important decision? What kind of important decision?” I ask, stepping a bit closer until there’s barely a foot between us. She grins up at me.
“Heads you sleep on the floor. Tails, you admit that you want me, and then we see where that takes us.”
My cock stiffens with the mere suggestion.
“June—”
“Come on, Graham. Let’s let luck decide if this is meant to happen,” she murmurs, eyes locked on mine as she takes the penny between pointer and thumb, holding it out for me.
I don’t know why I do it.
But I put my hand out, and she drops the coin into the palm of my hand. It’s warm from her touch, and I stare at the copper, trying to convince myself of all of the reasons this is a terrible fucking idea.
I can’t think of one.
So I flip the coin and catch it in my hand, fingers curling around the warm metal and hiding it from view.
“If we do this, nothing changes,” I say.
“Nothing at all,” she says, her voice breezy and soft, though I hear the small shake in it, something so close to disappointment twining in the words. I pull her into me, the hand not holding the coin wrapping around her waist and tugging her in tight.
“But if we do this, everything changes.” I drop the penny to the ground.
Her breathing hitches, her eyes going huge.
“Everything changes, because I’m not going back, June.” I stare at her, and I let those words hang between us, heavy and weighted. “I’m not going back to pretending like I’m not absolutely gone for you.”
She licks her lips and nods.
“Everything changes, Graham,” she murmurs, her voice shaky.
I don’t stop to look at the penny before closing the gap between us. I don’t want fate or luck or the universe to decide this. I don’t want there to ever be any kind of doubt in her mind somewhere down the road. I want June to know I’m all in and always have been.
I slide my fingers to the back of her hair and pull her face to mine.