Page 43 of The Worst Guy Ever
Wow, he really is drunk.“Pretty sure you’ll be needing it yourself, bud.”
“I got the flights wrong,” he hiccups, then thumps his chest, releasing a burp. “Excuse me, sorry. Going straight to the airport. Here, you take it. 401.” He fishes the hotel keycard out of the inner pocket of his suit jacket and hands it over with a flourish.
“You’re serious?”
“Yeah, it’s all yours,” he giggles like a teenage girl. “Go screw a bridesmaid or something.”
If only.
I find Kara on the dancefloor with Megan, barefoot and ripping it up. I bend to yell in her ear. “Where’s Hattie?”
“She left, darling. Everything OK?”
“Of course. I’m gonna head off too. Congratulations again, sweetheart. You have an amazing honeymoon.”
“No,youhave an amazing honeymoon!“ she shouts, not realising her error.
I considered going home, but there’s nothing like the luxury of a hotel bed and if there’s one thing that will take the edge off today, it’s having breakfast delivered in the morning. I’ve stayed in this hotel a few times, usually with women passing through town for a conference. It’s a nice place, a grand old building but pretty modern and fancy inside. I bet Kara chose it.
I bypass the receptionist, a petite brunette with a long, sleek ponytail. If I was in a better frame of mind, maybe I’d suggest she come and see me if she gets a break, but to be honest I just want to shower and sleep. The whole day has been full on with stressing about making it perfect for Luke, too much socialising, and whatever the fuck this thing with Hattie is.
We had some intense moments today, moments where I felt that we were more than just our usual bickering. She must have felt it when I stroked her skin in the bathroom. To be honest, I think I deserve a fucking trophy for keeping my hands to myself while she stood there in nothing but heels and a scowl. Holy fuck, her back is incredible. Those strong, lean muscles under soft, supple skin. That ass, tight and high and just begging to be squeezed. Shemusthave known.
If not then, I’m sure she felt it when we danced. At least until she mentioned her dad. She rarely mentions him. I guess it’s not exactly a regular topic of conversation, but maybe that would explain the drop in her mood.
The lift doors close and I lean against the wall, rolling my neck from side to side. I’m tense and weary. Perhaps there’s some sort of massage package I could have delivered to my room.
It’s Hattie’s fault. I’ve never felt this level of tension build up with anyone else. I know she thinks it’s all a game to me, but I’ve been trying to get her into bed for so long that my dick and my brain can’t keep up about who wants what. Every time I get a little closer to her, she pulls away, but there’s something behind it I just can’t seem to ignore.
I need to get over her, but I honestly feel like I won’t be able to get her out of my head until we’ve fucked and burst this bubble. Other women don’t hold the same appeal any more.
I don’t know why she’s so against the idea. I’d sit down and have a serious chat about it with her, make an actual proposition, but I think she’d rip me a new one for even suggesting it.
The keycard readers flashes, illuminating the dim corridor, but when I let myself in the lights are already on. The short corridor leads into an open lounge area with a kitchenette and through the double doors I spy the bedroom with the biggest bed I’ve ever seen.
Jackpot.
I kick off my shoes and head through, but pause in the doorway when I see the covers are already out of place. From the bathroom I hear the sound of running water and…is that singing?That doesn’t make sense. I left Luke and Kara at Moonshine. Who would be here?
“Hello?” I call out from the entrance to the bedroom and the bathroom door flies open to reveal Hattie in a silky robe that she hasn’t bothered to tie, a bottle of champagne swinging in her hand.
Oh shit. I am so fucked.
“Ugh. You,” she sighs. “What do you want?”
“Christ,Hattie. How is it possible that I am seeing you naked for the second time today?”
She stalks towards me, swigging straight from the bottle. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and gives me a look I’ve never seen before.How many versions of this woman are there?She points her finger and stabs me in the chest. “Take your clothes off.”
“Excuse me?”
“Strip,” she says, one eyebrow raised. “Then we’ll be even.”
“This feels like a trap.”
“Actually leave the tie on,” she waves a finger at my neck and cackles. “All the better to choke you with.”
“What are you doing here?” I fight my instincts and keep my gaze strictly at eye level.
