Chapter 30
Garrett
We never order room service. Instead, we spend the night wrapped in each other’s arms, talking, kissing, petting.
At some point, we find sleep because I wake to sunlight searing through the slim crack in the blackout curtains.
Angela is curled up on her side, her hair fanned out on the pillow behind her.
I press a kiss to her shoulder before sitting up, my bare feet making contact with cheap carpet as I lean my elbows on my knees and rest my head in my hands.
Last night…
It changes everything.
Or maybe it changes nothing at all because in a matter of hours, she’s flying home to the Keys while I hop a plane to Wildrose Landing. It doesn’t matter if she’s in my system, out of my system, or a figment of my imagination…
This won’t work.
Assuming I even want it to work in the first place. I’m not…I’m not a relationship kind of guy. There’s too much at stake, especially when people are so good at letting everyone else down.
Angela shifts, rolling onto her back with a sigh, tossing an arm overhead as her face turns my way. Her blue eyes crack open and a crooked, sleepy smile closes them again.
“Are you watching me sleep?”
“You got a problem with that?” I swing my legs back onto the bed and stretch out beside her.
“Yeah. I think I do.” Her eyes open and her smile deepens. “It’s creepy.”
“So, learning I masturbate in the shower to you before we knew each other is fine, but me looking at you while you sleep after we spent several very intimate hours together is an issue.” I cock my head. “Is it me? Or does that seem off?”
“That’s definitely a you thing.”
She laughs and makes her way back into my arms. Her head on my chest, my fingers in her hair.
“Let’s stay right here, all day. We don’t even have to get dressed.” I pull her closer. “We never did order that room service.”
“Isn’t it too early for strawberries and champagne?”
“It’s never too early for strawberries and champagne.”
The moment we walk out of this room, this thing between us is over. It’s untenable. Our lives are too set. Too complete. My head knows it’s time to call it before things get more complicated than they already are, but my body…
…my body loves having her breasts pressed against me, her leg thrown over mine, her soft skin dancing along my hard edges.
“What if I said I wanted a little of this…?” Angela slides her hand up my thigh, drawing her fingernails against the skin, then wraps her delicate fingers around my swelling cock. Her eyes light up. “It looks like I’m not the only one who’s fond of the idea.”
I press up on my elbow and cup her cheek, slipping my fingers into her hair to draw her in for a kiss. “I’m not just fond of it,” I say, my lips brushing hers. “I’m a huge fucking fan.”
“And I’m a huge fan of fucking,” she replies, pumping her hand along my dick. “I don’t know why we’re still talking about it. Let’s get to it, Bucko.”
In one swift movement, I roll on top of her, my hands on either side of her head as I position myself between her thighs. “Easy now, my Angel. I’m the one who gives the orders around here.”
While Angela’s in the shower, I call room service to order a fresh fruit platter and a bottle of Prosecco—they don’t offer champagne.
I one hundred percent will hand-feed this woman fruit just to see her smile.
I consider hopping into the shower with her but pull on a pair of pants instead.
After all, checkout is only a few hours away.
My phone vibrates with a text, and I swipe it off the nightstand, grinning like a fucking idiot.
What’s it say about Angela that I’m smiling so damn much?
It says she’s magic, that’s what. Mom would tell me to take that feeling and roll with it.
That it’s a sign I’m finally on my path.
And I’m in such a good mood, I might even believe her.
My smile falters when I see who the message is from. The Future Mrs. Cooper. I was so done with Melinda after everything went down, I didn’t change her contact info.
A morbid sense of curiosity has me clicking on the text. I know better. There’s nothing good waiting for me there. Nothing at all. Melinda is toxic layered upon greedy layered upon selfish and if she’s texting me, she’s working an angle.
The Future Mrs. Cooper
Hey Bear. Hope everything’s okay with you.
Any chance you want to meet up? Have some fun?
I know everything got weird with the whole Gustavo thing but you and me?
We’re not built for commitment. You know that.
I know that. Everyone knows that. So we’re good, right?
Let’s go back to the way things were. I miss your dick.
I scoff and read the text three times, my jaw getting tighter with each pass. My hands clench. My brows furrow.
She has no right to say I’m not built for commitment. Once upon a time, I was a “forever” kind of guy, and that didn’t work out well for me. At all.
So I’ve been dealing in distractions ever since.
It’s a conscious choice. Not how I’m built.
Though Melinda has no knowledge of who I am or what I’ve been through, so her jumping to that conclusion shouldn’t piss me off.
So why am I ready to punch a wall?
The shower turns off and I drop the phone onto the bed beside me.
That reason to be angry? It’s the shittiness surrounding Melinda.
The cheapness she brings to everything. I’m mad at myself for not seeing it sooner.
It’s the only thing that makes sense. Although, as Angela hums to herself in the bathroom, there’s a part of me that isn’t convinced.
There’s something else at the root of the rage growing inside me.
A knock and a call of, “Room service!” derails my thoughts.
I stand, grabbing a shirt out of my bag and pulling it over my head before opening the door.
The guy barely looks at me until I tip him and even then, he’s sizing me up, not expressing gratitude.
People and their greed. I can’t fucking stand it.
Inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, I choose not to focus on Melinda or the sad state of humanity.
If I only have a few more hours with Angela, I’m going to enjoy them.
When she comes out of the bathroom, I’m waiting for her in bed with a plate of fruit in front of me, and a glass of Prosecco in one hand while I beckon her over with the other.
“You didn’t,” she says, a smile transforming her face.
“You bet your sweet ass I did.” I run a loving hand over the mattress. “Now come here and let me play with that mouth.”