Page 53 of One Life to Loathe

“Fine.” He held out his hand to me. “We’ll head back to the hotel.”

“And then what?”

“Nothing more than you want.”

There was just one little problem with his chivalry. I wanted it all right now. I’d rubbed up against what I was dealing with when I’d been wrapped around him, and I was practically salivating.

“We should take the walk back to the hotel and see if the spark dies,” I said.

“Fine.” He dropped his hand. “After you.”

My legs were wobbly on the cobblestone walkway and he had to catch me twice in my heels as I tried to make it back to the festival area. Thankfully, he was far too much of a gentleman to comment on it.

When we rounded the corner to where we’d left the others, I was dumbfounded to find the entire area empty. “What the…?”

“I guess we didn’t have to stop,” Leo said grumpily.

“I can’t believe they left us,” I complained.

“I can. They set this up from the beginning.”

He wasn’t wrong. “Do you think we’re locked in?”

“I doubt it.” He held out his hand again and this time I took it, closing my eyes when the spark returned with a vengeance. “Come on. Let’s head back.”

Thankfully, the gate that closed off the property was still propped open—as if they knew we would eventually make our way out. Leo let go of my hand long enough to lock the gate behind us. Then he took it again for the walk back to the hotel.

Neither of us said anything. The walk should’ve been awkward. It wasn’t, though. It was sexually charged and … comfortable. Even though this man had spent the entire week making my life hell, for some reason, I was comfortable with him. How was that even possible?

We stopped holding hands when we got to the hotel and made our way to the elevator. Once we were on our floor, I was the one who couldn’t take the silence any longer.

“I still feel the spark,” I admitted when we were in front of our doors.

“Me, too.” His grin was wolfish.

I used my keycard to open my door. “Are you coming in?” I asked as I stepped over the threshold.

There was no doubt in my mind—or on his face—when he followed me. “Yup.”

“You realize this is going to be messy, right?” I was already resigned to my morning regret. I couldn’t stop what I was feeling, though. I just had to have more.

“It’s definitely going to be messy.”

“You still feel the spark, though?”

“Baby, I feel an explosion.”

I paused long enough to cock my head. “That was kind of corny.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet.” With that, he strode into my room and shut the door. The time for talking was over.

The time for sparking was just getting started.

15

FIFTEEN

Icouldn’t remember the last time I’d slept through the entire night. Sometimes I fell asleep fine and woke up around three in the morning so I could toss and turn until my alarm went off. Other times I couldn’t fall asleep and fell into utter exhaustion around four in the morning. Last night, however, I’d slipped under with no prompting. The sounds of birds chirping outside Sam’s bedroom window told me I’d slept straight through, too.

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