Chapter 15 Jude
JUDE
Cap insists that both Nora and I come to their room first, so we know exactly where it is.
So the completely awkward four of us—three, really, given Cap’s so happy he’s practically whistling—head there first. Cap runs around the two-bedroom suite, opening and closing all the doors and drawers, while I grill Farrah on all the same stuff I grilled her on yesterday ahead of their sleepover.
I can tell she’s getting annoyed, but hiding it for Cap, and finally Nora tells Cap it’s time for us to go, rescuing both of us. After copious hugs and kisses, I promise to pick him up right here at his door for breakfast tomorrow morning, where we’ll discuss all our plans over the next week.
On the walk to Farrah and Cap’s room, which is on the third floor in the west wing, while ours is on the fourth on the east wing, the bellhop was quiet as he followed behind us, clearly trying to figure out our dynamic. One bouncy kid and three adults who could barely look at each other.
Now, with just Nora and me, he chatters with slightly broken English about the activities happening at the hotel this week.
There is some kind of dance lesson happening tomorrow, plus sleigh rides, and champagne on the cable car up the mountain.
“And that is not even talking about the skiing!” the eager boy says in careful English.
His nameplate says his name is Gunther, and he’s chipper enough that for a moment I don’t feel the awkward twisting in my gut when I looked at Nora, who stiffly faces the door of the elevator.
Our rooms are gorgeous, of course, and Nora would be agog if she were actually looking around at everything Gunther’s pointing out.
But she’s looking around without seeing, and not meeting my eye, either.
Our rooms are indeed adjoined by two thick doors.
They’re mirror images of each other, each with a lush king bed, giant TV, a modern black leather love seat, and at the end of the room, a wall of glass with a freestanding tub in a glass alcove next to it.
The toilet and bidet are the only thing behind a closed door.
Outside, there’s a sleek wood deck with a hot tub, and beyond that, thick, dark trees.
To the right, the slopes are lit up for night skiing.
They’re kind of like the rooms in the Rolling Hills, only slightly more Scandinavian inspired, and perched on a ski hill.
“Do not worry about the bathing,” Gunther says, indicating the tub. “The glass is a mirror on the other side for the privates.”
Nora pinches her lips between her teeth and looks down. So at least she’s not so upset she can’t laugh.
Gunther lays both sets of key cards on the table and props the dividing door open between our rooms before leaving. At the door I hand him a folded bill.
“Can you please get someone to check in on the other room in a while to see if they need anything?”
“Yes, sir!” Gunther says, practically saluting me when he sees the size of the euro note I’ve handed him.
Then he’s gone.
“I’ll take the other room,” I say, pulling my suitcase through the open interior door into the adjoining suite.
Nora won’t look at me; she just stands in the doorway across from me and pushes her glasses up her nose. “That’s fine. Great.”
“Nora, can we talk about—”
“Jude, I’ve had enough humiliation for one night, okay?” she snaps, surprising me. Then she twists her hands in front of her, not meeting my eye. “I’m just…tired, okay? And still thinking it’s ludicrous that I came along with you guys.”
“Don’t think that, please. We all want you here.”
When she looks up, her eyes look pained.
“We’ll do some ghost hunting tomorrow, yeah?”
She nods. “If that’s okay with Cap.”
“Of course.” I hesitate. “Nora, can we just forget what happened on the train?”
Her cheeks flush, and she looks almost stricken. Was that the wrong thing to say?
“Sure,” she squeaks.
Before I can say anything else, she hands me a key from the table and shuts the door between us.
I clench my jaw. God, how had I managed to screw this up so badly?
I toss my suitcase on the bed, running my hand through my loose hair. What I should do is go to sleep. It’s only nine, but it’s been a long day.
I don’t like myself this way. It’s not my natural state to be grumpy as shit. My brother Eli’s the grumpy one. He takes everything too seriously and doesn’t know how to have a good time.
Except, now that he’s hooked up with the love of his life, he does.
The realization that I, Jude Kelly, the happy-go-fucking-lucky one of my five siblings, is probably the grumpiest out of the bunch at this moment in time, has me in a sudden panic.
I pull out my phone and send a text to my only other single brother, Griffin.
JUDE: I’m in Switzerland. Got any sightseeing tips?
It’s a moment before he texts back. I’m surprised, actually, that he didn’t just ignore me.
GRIFF: Are you in trouble?
I consider answering yes, but Griff might send me a fucking chopper out of nowhere knowing what he considers trouble, so I write back:
JUDE: No. Just ghost-hunting.
GRIFF: Seriously?
JUDE: Sort of. Awkward co-parenting situation with me and Farrah and Cap. And Nora.
Griff then has the audacity to send a gif of a woman spitting out water in shock. I tsk and toss my phone on the bed, grumbling. He’s never in his life sent me a gif. So it’s true, I’m king grump.
I decide I can’t lie around here—I’ll never fall asleep knowing Nora’s right next door, pissed off or upset with me or whatever she is. Instead, I grab a key card from the table and head downstairs.
I spend the next fifteen minutes wandering the hotel, but not really seeing anything.
It’s a waste, because I love Christmassy stuff as much as Nora, and intellectually, I know the place looks incredible.
There are gorgeous lounges covered with holly, and Christmas music pumps from invisible speakers throughout the main floor.
Up close, the Christmas tree in the lobby rivals the size of the one in Rockefeller Plaza, and the scent of delicious food and din of voices spills from the open doors of the restaurant and bar as I pass.
I want to be exploring this place with Nora. Hell, I want to be doing anything with her. I could stare at a wall with her and I’d have a better time than I’m having right now.
But that’s out of the question. I consider going to the bar and getting a whiskey, but even that doesn’t interest me.
I realize, suddenly, what I need: to jerk off.
That’s what my problem is. I can’t relax with all that pent-up sexual energy from the train.
I feel relieved just to have a plan, crude as it is. I head back upstairs, practically jogging. Never have I been so cheery about heading to my room to fuck my hand.
I scan the card and step into my room, already pulling off my sweater as I stride through the little hallway at the entrance.
Except that’s when I heard the running water, followed by a soft moan. Like a moth to a fucking flame, I pop the neck of my sweater back down to free up my view.
Nora’s in the bath—the open bath, directly in front of me.
Only, she isn’t in the bath. She’s sitting on the edge, her feet in the tub, her pale, naked body slick with water and bubbles.
Her long braids are wet, sticking to her skin, and as I stand there dumbfounded, she arches her back, her bare tits pointing out.
Her eyes are closed, which is why she hasn’t seen me.
Move. I need to move.
But I can’t. I’m frozen as her hand slides down her stomach. Her other hand, I see now, is holding a retractable showerhead, and it’s aimed directly between her legs, the spray flying everywhere like the hottest fucking fountain I’ve ever seen.
Except she’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Jesus Christ,” I say, before I can stop myself.
Nora screams, her eyes popping open. She drops the showerhead in the tub. That was the only sound in the room, and it was loud. Now, it’s dead silent. Nora’s dropped down after it, hiding all the way behind the wall of the tub, her eyes wide.
Heat rushes to my groin. That image of her—it’s superimposed on my brain for the rest of my life. I know it.
“You’re in my room.” It’s all I could think to say.
“No, I’m not! This is my room!” I can’t see her, only hear the wobble in her voice.
I look up, panic beating a drum in my chest. Fuck. She’s right.
“The key cards…” I say.
Nora’s hand goes to her lips. She must have handed me the wrong one.
And I was so preoccupied I didn’t even think about which door I was going into.
“I’m sorry, Nora.”
Except…I haven’t moved. And Nora hasn’t asked me to, either.
“Nora,” I say, my tongue moving like it has no business doing. My dick too, because I shouldn’t be standing here with it already rock hard, painful as it presses against my zipper.
She sits up, her eyes on me. Except she’s not wearing her glasses, so she’s a little unfocused.
Maybe that’s a good thing. She sits up high enough that the tops of her breasts are floating on the water, suds shining on their surface.
I want to walk over there and dip my hands in the water, to run my thumbs along her collarbone and palms across her nipples.
But I can’t do that. We can’t, and I definitely can’t. I made a promise to myself, years ago, and I can’t break it. Can I?
“Show me.”
My best friend swallows, her mouth parting slightly. She seems to hesitate, to mull this over, and I’m about to take it back, to apologize and bolt, when she snaps her mouth shut again.
And stands up.
My groin swells. I don’t think. I walk toward the tub, my eyes fixed on her now-naked body standing there, sudsy water streaming from her shoulders down over the length of her arms, the delicate stretch of her chest, the soft peaks of her nipples.
They go hard under my gaze, which only makes my cock surge.
She likes me looking.