Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Franky
My entire body was buzzing.
I couldn’t recall ever being this excited.
The disguise, the sneaky ascent up the elevator, keeping my sunglasses on during check-in, which I hoped came off as mysterious rather than rude.
The only thing missing was a fake ID, and I was glad the desk clerk didn’t say my name aloud when I handed over my driver’s license. She probably surmised I wanted privacy.
Most thrilling of all was spotting Jason with Conor in the lobby and watching as he surreptitiously steered him away from me to the restaurant.
In the mirror behind reception, I spied them standing at the host podium, chatting away as they waited to be seated.
I wanted Jason to look at me, but of course that would have defeated the purpose of going under the radar.
And also, why? Because we were partners in this subterfuge, I supposed. It couldn’t have been because the idea of sneaking around was sexy.
Jason had looked so good in his gray sweats and Rebels zip-up.
I couldn’t help noticing how his pants had clung to his strong thigh muscles as he sat in my car.
How his sheer bulk ate up all the space and made me feel petite.
Not that I felt like some Shrek-like ogre in most men’s presence, but I did feel oddly feminine in Jason’s.
Most likely it was because of how crazily hormonal I usually was whenever he was around.
After all, his role was to appear as I was ovulating, and our relationship was wholly focused on what needed to happen to get me pregnant.
It definitely placed us in certain biological lanes.
Him the provider of sperm, me the vessel for nurturing a child.
A heteronormative viewpoint that was strangely arousing.
I sent him a text with my room number, then immediately regretted it. What if someone saw my name pop up on his screen? He was with his nephew and possibly other teammates now, sharing a meal. It wasn’t as if he could leave them—
A knock sounded on the door.
I checked the peephole. Jason stood there, hands in the pockets of his sweats, staring straight at me. I had sent that text two minutes ago.
I opened the door, positively giddy with excitement, and grasped the zipper of his jacket to pull him inside. He kicked the door shut behind him.
“I can’t believe—”
“We almost got—”
At talking over each other, we stopped and burst into laughter. I lay my forehead against his chest and absorbed the vibrations of his joy as they melded with my own.
I looked up at his smiling face. “That was a close one.”
“Sure was. Wasn’t expecting Connie to throw his hat in the ring there. Thought it would be Hatch or NoBo who gave us the most trouble.”
“The woman at the desk gave me the weirdest look, and then I got in the elevator with one of the newer guys … Asher something?”
“Hell no!” He gripped my hips and pulled me in. “He didn’t recognize you, did he?”
“No. I’ve never met him, but I’ve seen his photo online. He exited on the fourth floor, so I’m guessing you’re all on that level.”
“Yeah, one floor down. When you sent the message, I made my excuses.”
And practically stormed up here. That he had arrived so quickly, no muss, no fuss, no games, was both thrilling and confusing.
“This is pretty exciting,” I murmured, my hands on his chest. I moved my fingertips furtively, checking for steeliness. He would barely notice, and I would have more data.
His fingers flexed on my hips. Subtle, but undeniably present.
“I feel like we got away with something,” he said.
My breathing was coming in shallow draws, and I had the strongest urge to reach for his mouth and cover it with my own. His gaze dipped to my lips, then back to my eyes. My lips again, and oh God, he was going to kiss me.
I wanted it, possibly more than I had ever wanted anything.
But it would complicate an already complicated situation. I stepped back and exhaled.
I avoided looking at him in case I saw something that made me jump into his arms and claim the kiss I so badly wanted. Instead, I picked up the scarf I had used for my disguise—so pretty with its dragonflies—folded it neatly, and placed it on the nightstand.
“This worked so well!” I sounded slightly hysterical. Calm down. Remember why you’re here. “How much time do you have?”
“I’m meeting the guys for dinner in the lobby at 6pm. I mean, real dinner—right now they’re smashing apps in the hotel restaurant.”
“So just over an hour. Not that it takes long.” I put my hand over my mouth. “I didn’t mean to imply that you’re speedy or lack stamina in that area.”
He tilted his head. “No? Well, it’s different when you’re going solo. Or when someone else is waiting on the other side of the door for a delivery.”
“I suppose it is.” I looked around, abruptly aware of how the room’s coziness. “Maybe I should leave so you can …”
“And go where? We can’t risk you being seen.”
“The bathroom. I can go in there and put on headphones.”
“Or you could just stay.”
It was like a bomb had exploded. Did he mean I should be in the same room?
Just in case there was any misunderstanding, he added, “And watch.”