2. Brooke
brOOKE
Brightness invades my sleep, but I’m not ready to open my eyes. It’s too early to leave my cocoon of warmth. Rolling to the side, away from the light, I groan as my stiff muscles complain.
I lie there for several minutes, hoping to fall back into dreamland. No such luck. Anticipation of my morning alarm going off any minute keeps me awake. Eventually giving up, I turn onto my back, letting my head nestle into the fluffy pillow.
Hmm. Since when is my pillow so soft? And the sheets are like satin. Maybe I’m still dreaming. If so, I don’t want to wake up from this luxury. But my mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton balls. And my head aches. I need water.
I reach for my usual glass of water on my bedside table. Instead, I grasp a plastic bottle.
I open my eyes just enough to form narrow slits so I can look around without shocking my system with the bright morning sunshine that’s filtering through the sheer window coverings. Wait a minute. That’s not right either. My bedroom doesn’t face the morning sun.
“Something is off this morning,” I murmur to myself.
“Brooke, are you awake?”
“No, I must still be dreaming.” I smile, happy the dream isn’t over yet.
“It’s not a dream. You’re here with me. I’m Stuart. We met last night when we were stuck in the lift during the brownout. Remember?”
Oh. I remember Stuart. He calmed me when my claustrophobia caused me to panic. He was so sweet helping me breathe and giving me his jacket to stay warm. And I could listen to his deep, British accent any time.
Wait a minute. I jerk upright. “Where am I now? Why is my head throbbing?”
“You’re in my suite. While we were stuck in the lift, you drank some of my uncle’s whiskey to calm yourself.
Then a little more. I suspect you’re not used to drinking straight shots.
Combined with the stress from your fear, when you relaxed a little, you fell asleep in the lift.
When the power returned, I tried to wake you.
It didn’t work. You were in such a deep trance, I couldn’t rouse you. ”
He’s right. I rarely have more than one martini. “Oh. How did I end up here?”
“I would have helped you home last night, but I had no idea where you live. You didn’t even have a handbag with identification, and the security desk in the first-floor lobby was closed. So, I carried you here to rest. I slept on the sofa in case you’re wondering.”
“So, we didn’t . . . you know?”
“No. Other than sharing a short, but quite enjoyable kiss before you fell asleep in the lift, nothing happened. I kept you quite safe.”
Oh my god. I initiated that kiss. I should regret it, but I don’t. His lips were warm and tender.
I quickly shake off that line of thought, instead declaring, “I have to go home. I’m so sorry to have inconvenienced you.”
“Taking care of you was no problem at all, and it’s still very early in the morning. I suggest you sleep a little longer, and then we can arrange a ride home for you at a safer hour of the day.”
“My commute is short. I won’t need a ride,” I mumble as I try to clear the haze from my brain.
His concern for me is touching. And he has a point. It would be prudent to go home later in the morning, so I nod in agreement.
I can’t help but stare at him. Before the power failed last night, I noticed he was handsome. Now, in the daylight, he’s so much more than merely handsome.
He’s magnificent. I’d guess he’s at least six feet, if not taller.
The sunlight from the window exposes the natural golden highlights running through his dark brown hair.
I love that it’s long enough to show off the waves at the ends.
I’m itching to run my fingers through his thick hair.
And his brown eyes are like pools of my favorite chocolate. I could lose myself in his gaze.
Despite the pleasing view, I force myself to turn and sit on the side of the bed. It’s time to go.
As I start to stand, I wobble. Grabbing my head, I sink back onto the bed, admitting, “I don’t feel so good.”
Stuart hurries to my side, placing a warm, steadying hand on my shoulder. “Let me open the water for you. There’s also a new packet of headache pills on the table. You should take them and go back to sleep. You’re safe here. I promise.”
“I barely know you, but somehow, I believe you.”
“Get some sleep. I’ll wake you up in a couple of hours.”
“Thanks.”
Closing my eyes, I count the seconds, hoping the pills will stop the throbbing in my head. Eventually, I drift off, hoping to conjure dreams of Stu. That would make this hangover so worth it.
I wake again. This time, I know I’m in Stuart’s suite. The extra sleep significantly diminished the adverse effects of the whiskey from last night.
I stretch, looking around the room for Stu. He’s nowhere in sight, but I hear running water. He must be in the shower.
My mind is racing with various thoughts about him. Last night he was kind, comforting, and protective. He also exuded confidence and masculinity that made me want to be more than just his friend. I can only imagine what it would be like to see his naked body being pelted by hot water.
I allow myself to enjoy those thoughts until the water turns off. Now, it’s time to get up. Looking around the floor by the bed, I find my shoes. As I’m slipping the right one on, I hear the door to the bathroom open.
“Good morning, sleeping beauty. How are you feeling?” Stu asks.
Before answering, I look up to see Stu standing in the doorway, wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist. I swallow hard, my gaze riveted to his hard chest and sculpted abs dotted with droplets of water as they trickle downward until they’re absorbed by the low-slung towel.
A bit flustered, I stand, hobbling as I attempt to slide on my second shoe. “Umm. I’m okay. Thanks for all the help. I’ll be on my way now.”
Hurrying toward the door of the suite, I bump into a table. That’s going to be a bad bruise. I don’t stop though. Opening the door to the hotel hallway, I call over my shoulder, “Bye. Thanks again.”
I rush to the elevator, and when it closes, sigh with relief. I had to get out of there before my desire for that incredible man overcame my self-restraint.
Nothing good comes from acting impulsively.