Page 31 of Polly

“Anytime.” He hugged her back.

Someone knocked at the door.

“I’ll be right back,” Flynn said. He pressed another kiss to Polly’s cheek and climbed out of bed.

He grabbed a cash tip from his wallet and crossed the room. He peeked through the peephole and a young man stood outside the door with a bag containing their room service. Flynn opened the door and flashed a smile.

“Thanks, man.” He slipped the tip to the guy with a handshake and took the bag.

The man’s eyes grew wide. “Y-you’re welcome,” he stuttered.

Flynn winked and closed the door.

He went back to the bed and sat down beside Polly. He grabbed the rum from the bag, undid the cap, and handed the bottle to Polly.

“Drink up,” he said.

“What are we doing later? I don’t want to be drunk.”

Flynn thought about his plans and laughed. “You’ll have more fun if you’re tipsy. Trust me.”

Polly laughed. “Okay, I’ll take your word for it.” Polly took a swig of rum straight from the bottle and made a face. “That burns.”

Flynn pulled their containers from the bag and handed Polly hers. He piled the ketchup packets on the bed between them and sat against the headboard with his food. Spotting the remote on the bedside table, he grabbed it and turned on a random TV show.

They chowed down on their burgers and fries, as they shared the bottle of rum and laughed at the sitcom.

Tipsy when they were finished, they each changed their clothes in the bathroom then met back at the beds.

“Bring your camera,” Flynn said, which Polly obliged.

They stumbled from the hotel into an Uber, luckily without running into fans.

The driver dropped them off on a popular street filled with shops and restaurants. They joined the foot traffic walking up the street before finally sitting on a bench outside of one of the shops.

“What are we doing?” Polly asked.

“Playing tourists. Watch for celebrities and take their pictures.”

“But they probably aren’t celebrities. I’m tipsy and I can’t tell,” she protested.

“That’s the point. See, look. Doesn’t he look familiar? I’m sure I’ve seen him on TV.”

The guy was obviously a random tourist. Polly decided to let it go and have fun instead.

The two had a blast, tipsily making up ridiculous stories and taking pictures of the people they thought looked famous.

At one point, Polly said, “Is that Jason Momoa?” She gasped and snapped a photo.

“I’d bet it is. Damn this street is hopping.” Flynn laughed.

A handsome young man approached Polly with a smile. “I saw you from across the street and your beauty struck me. I had to take a chance. Would you be interested in a date?”

Polly opened her mouth to respond, but Flynn’s jealousy flared and he growled. “Get lost, pal.”

The young man held up his hands and backed away.

“Sorry, I had to ask.”

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