4. Sebastian
Ididn’t expect to wake to an empty bed. It’s Mila’s hotel room, after all.
The clock reads eight a.m. That’s late for me.
But she’s not here, and there’s no sound whatsoever in the room.
I flip back the covers, reveling in the bracing chill. I love Colorado, and the arrival of fall is my favorite time of the year. The colors on the mountains. The ease of hiking and working outside in the brisk air.
It’s the best.
The curtains slide easily, and I peer out at the foothills. We’re on the mountain side of the hotel, otherwise we’d be looking over the highway. I tap the chilly window with three fingers in honor of the view. It’s gorgeous, and I wish my partner in crime was here with me.
I don’t know much about her other than she’s not from around here. That hint of a drawl says southern girl to me, even though it’s not heavy. And she’s in a hotel, so either she’s new in town or passing through.
I’m hoping the former.
But there was that one issue.
She’d been a virgin. And that wasn’t expected. She’d danced with multiple men, including Carl with the roving hands. He was known for it, and Smiley has kicked him out of the bar more than once for manhandling the ladies.
But nothing about how she behaved at Smiley’s screamed innocent. Or how she asked me to her room. The way we raced to the bed.
I would have done things differently if I’d known.
Maybe I wouldn’t have done it at all. Taken time get to know her first. Get a few dates down.
I was at the bar to meet my friend Isaiah, but he got held up. I was about to leave when I realized that the young woman who had caught my eye earlier was trying to extricate herself from Carl.
He was rutting on her like a buck in heat, and I’d had about enough of it.
But when I got my turn on the dance floor, she was luscious and easy to lead. The feel of her in my arms was like homecoming. She fit.
So, when she asked me to leave with her, I was all in.
Everything about her was a revelation. She responded like I was the greatest lover to grace her bed.
Then I realized I was the only one who’d ever been there.
And now she’s gone.
I turn from the window. Not gone gone. Her suitcase is still on the floor, and her purse is sideways on the dresser, the contents spread out.
Including her phone.
Did she run for a coffee?
I smile. Now that would be a great way to start the day.
The shower beckons, so I take a quick rinse while I wait for her to return. But when I step out, she’s still not back.
Nor when I dress. Or when I sit on the edge of the bed with the dregs of my phone charge. I have no way to contact her.
I pace the room, wondering if I should simply leave.
An hour passes. Did she get lost?
Then I spot her keys in the mass of items by her purse.
She wouldn’t leave without those.
Or her wallet.
Where did she go?
I’m not one to go through a woman’s things, so I don’t pull out her ID or search for clues. I locate my shoes, tie the laces and do the only thing I can.
I leave, skulking through the lobby and across the parking lot, no wiser about what happened to Mila.
I might never know.
When I get home, Alfalfa, my big, clumsy black Labrador, bounds to the door. My sister Arya sits on the sofa, sipping coffee in a hoodie and sweatpants. “Walk of shame?”
I shrug, rubbing both of Alfalfa’s ears at the same time. “Been a while. I was due.”
“I take it you’re over that she-devil for real, then?” She sits up. “It wasn’t her, right? She didn’t come back and win you over? I’m not giving up my bedroom.”
I release Alfalfa, who trots beside me as I move to a chair facing her. “No. Someone passing through. I stayed in her hotel room.”
“Whew. I didn’t want to have to move. Again.”
Arya lived with me before I dated Haley, and during that eighteen-month stretch, she ended up moving out. I own a house on the edge of Boulder, not far from Smiley’s bar. Arya is a painter, a free spirit, often unemployed. Currently, she teaches an art class for toddlers, which pays approximately one half of the gas bill.
It’s fine. It’s just been me and her since Mom followed her dream to return to India. Arya and I wanted to stay in Boulder, although we go see her for Diwali and always try to make her birthday.
Dad still exists, but mainly as a phone call around Christmas. We haven’t seen him in person since Arya was two.
I promised Mom I would watch out for my sister. Never let the real world get her down.
But she couch surfed for over a year, and I let it happen. Haley ran my life, right up until she ran out of it.
I won’t make that mistake again.
Which is why it’s probably a good thing Mila was a one-nighter. She was cute. Passionate. The perfect bounce-back.
But the virginity thing is huge. I feel responsible, even though she was absolutely an equal partner in the whole thing.
“Hey, you’re doing it again.” Arya reaches out a foot in a thick gray sock — one of my socks — to kick my shin. “Earth to Sebastian.”
I shake off thoughts of Mila. “Sorry. Weird night.”
“Ooooh. Was she into alternative stuff? Domination? Anal?”
I stand up. “I need coffee before I can discuss anal with my sister.”
Alfalfa follows me into the kitchen.
“Don’t let that dog lie to you!” Arya calls. “I fed her. She’ll pretend I didn’t, but I did.”
Right on cue, Alfalfa heads to her empty bowl and looks up at me with plaintive brown eyes.
I pour a cup of coffee. Arya made extra for me, probably before she realized I wasn’t home. I’m glad to have it. I sorely need a pick-me-up.
Alfalfa sticks her paw in the bowl and starts rolling it around like a prisoner running a metal cup along the bars.
I sip the steaming brew. “Don’t bother, Alfie. I’m on to you.”
She plunks down next to the bowl and watches me.
“Poor mistreated doggo.” I shake my head.
But as I stand in my quiet kitchen, the wind sending leaves skittering across the deck, I can’t take my mind off Mila.
Her long dark hair. Her laugh. The way we moved together on the dance floor. Then later, how we moved together on the hotel bed.
Maybe it’s good she was only passing through. I might never know her motivations.
I have to accept it as an unsolvable mystery, like why my dad left, or why Mom felt compelled to return to her homeland once we were grown.
Arya pops into the kitchen. “Don’t you have somewhere to be soon?” She eyes my outfit from yesterday. “You should change. You’re rumpled.”
She’s right. I head upstairs and change out of my jeans and the soft blue pullover I can picture Mila lifting over my head.
Time to be the boss, even on a Sunday afternoon.
Because today all the new hospitality hires will arrive at the Castle Hotel to move into their new quarters, and I need to be there to welcome them. I’m their general manager. Their new boss. Time to set the tone.
Mila will have to be relegated to my past. A single night. A consequential night. A memorable night.
But I’ll probably never see her again.