Page 53 of The Alpha's Gamble
Oh, fuck,Walter.
It came rushing back, and I leaned forward, letting my forehead rest against the shower wall and then thumping it there a few times.
Yeah, my being sloppy drunk probably hadn’t gotten Declan’s engine firing in the first place, but then I’d started telling him about how Walter wanted him and how he was dumb for not noticing.
They’d been working together for how fucking long? And while I found Walter incredibly repellent, objectively he had an extremely handsome face and a tight little body. Declan obviously liked him already. And he’d been completely oblivious before I came along and shoved it in his face. Maybe he’d never made a move because he thought he’d be taking advantage of the fucker, which given my circumstances was ironic in the extreme. But Declan didn’t seem like a serial blackmailer, or anything—he’d made an exception for me, I was pretty sure.
Now I’d pointed out Walter’s obsession with him, he’d probably spent his long, sexless night mulling the idea over and considering its merits. Someone he trusted, liked, and who wanted him. How could he possibly prefer me to that?
I let out a miserable moan as I realized I didn’t even know if Declan had spent the night here at all. He could’ve poured me into bed and then waltzed straight back out the door and into Walter’s bed instead.
But then why’d he put me in his? Because he’d planned to fuck me, clearly, before he gave it up as a bad job given my totally wasted state and my insistence on making pillow talk about Walter being in love with him.
Yeah.
I’d had better moments.
I left the shower as cranky and miserable as I’d entered it, but it wasn’t until I’d stumbled into the kitchen, towel around my waist, that I remembered the last thing: I’d asked him to kiss me.
Fuck. I’d practicallybeggedhim to kiss me.
And he hadn’t so much as touched me.
Well, didn’t that put the rotten cherry on top of the crap sundae.
My phone—and fuck that, I’d check messages later when I had the strength for it—sat on the counter next to the coffee maker…which I didn’t need to start. Declan had left it turned on and full. I sagged against the counter in relief. Declan had been here all night, then.
Unless he’d come back to get dressed after spending the night fucking Walter in every possible position and then made me coffee out of pity.
Enough. I couldn’t handle this level of anxiety before I even drank any of the coffee.
Hitching up the towel with one hand, I grabbed the pot with the other to pour into the cup I’d pulled out of the cupboard.
A loud, insistent knock sounded on the door of the suite, and it startled me enough that the coffee sloshed all over the counter, dripping down onto the floor and spreading hotly under my bare toes.
I slammed the pot down and stomped, coffee-soaked feet and all, to the door.
This had better be good. And if it was Walter, I was going to deck him, and I didn’t care if he turned me into a toad.
I yanked the door open, clutching the towel as it slipped a bit, and all but snarled at—the cute twinky guy who’d delivered my room service weeks before, the one who’d been so friendly with Declan, and vice versa.
That did not improve my mood.
He glanced up and down, went bright red, and swallowed hard. Okay, that mollified me a little. The guy couldn’t help having good taste in men, and I stood up a little straighter, letting my abs flex.
So sue me. I was only semi-human, after all.
“Mr. Castelli,” he squeaked. “Um. Sorry if it’s a bad time? I have a delivery for you.”
I blinked at him for a moment in total shock, wondering when the bad soundtrack was going to start…and then realized he was in fact holding a garment bag. Gods above, I needed to get a grip. And drink some coffee.
And take another shower, except—no, that faint, unpleasant odor wasn’t coming from me. Delivery guy? Ugh, he needed a new cologne. Actually, it smelled a lot like the odor that had been on my luggage when I got it back from my previous suite.
“Did you pack my stuff? In my suite, before I moved down here?” I demanded.
“Uh. No? That was…um, that was Joe, I think. If there’s something missing or damaged, I’m sure it was an oversight, and I’m so sorry. I’ll get him on the radio right away—”
“No, no need, nothing’s missing.” Weird. Did the housekeeping staff use some kind of chemical, or…? I came up empty. Whatever. “Give me the—thing.” I snatched it out of his hands, my towel nearly getting away from me, and stepped back to let the door thud shut in his face. Fuck, I’d been trying to be nicer. And he’d checked me out with the right level of appreciation for my toned upper body, which deserved a little courtesy. “Thank you!” I called out belatedly.
