Page 374 of Rock Me All Night
I follow him. "I'm tired and you're threatening to drag me to a 90s club to what—capture you grinding with a Victoria's Secret model? We're in Portland, not Hollywood. There are no celebrities here."
"I don't discriminate. Any beautiful woman will do."
"Well, there are half a dozen women right there." I point to the women waiting in front of the hotel. We're five blocks away now, too far to see if any of the women are up to Tom's standards. But, hey, he doesn't discriminate. It should be fine. "Bring one up to your room. I'll get the shot."
Tom stops dead in his tracks. "What the fuck is your problem?"
"I'm tired."
"Well, I'm going out, and I want you to go with me."
"Why?"
"Because you need to have some fun." His expression intensifies as he stares into my eyes.
No, I'm tired.I practice the words in my head, but they refuse to make it all the way to my mouth. It's what I always say to invitations. I'm tired. Physically, mentally, and emotionally tired. I always say no. I always want to say no.
But not this time. I want to say yes. I want to scream yes and addpress your body against mine all night. Fuck the dancing, let's go back to your room.
"Willow. Hello?"
The words are still stuck in my throat.
"You don't want to go, fine. I don't need an entourage to have a good time. I've never had a problem finding adancepartner before."
Acid churns in my stomach. Okay. I'm jealous. And worse, I'm jealous of a hypothetical person. I've got it bad.
I shake my head. "I'll go with you."
"Knew you'd change your mind."
* * *
Despite his arrogance, Tom does the gentlemanly thing and walks me to my room.
"Thanks." I slide the key into the door and nod goodbye.
"You know what you're wearing?"
"A dress and heels?" There's no confidence in my voice. Security was supposed to move my stuff to the room. As long as I have my suitcase, I should be able to figure it out. I push the door open. "I'll wear clothes. It will be fine."
"All right. I'm gonna shower. Be back in ten. Unless." He nods to the closed bathroom door. "You want to try and take a peek again?"
"You're not going to let me live that down, are you?"
"Absolutely not."
"Are you wearing that?" I point to his jeans and t-shirt. He looks fine. Sexy, actually. A little sweaty, but that's only enhancing his appeal.
"No, I am not wearing this. But I'm glad to know your feelings on the matter." He shakes his head in mock outrage. "So judgmental."
Do not engage. Do not engage!
I nod back to Tom. "See you in ten minutes."
He kisses me on the cheek. "Until then."
Okay. Friends kiss on the cheek. In Europe. And maybe in Los Angeles too. Certainly none of my friends do it. But it's plausible that it's Tom's thing.
