Page 31 of Famous Last Words
Thankfully, before any more can be said, we’re saved by the shudder of vibration coming from behind us. We both jump, and I realize the sound is coming from the nightstand where Robbie’s phone sits charging.
“It might be Andy,” I say hopefully.
Robbie places his food onto the coffee table before showing off his agility with an oddly impressive commando roll over the back of the sofa. Hurrying to grab the device, he takes a seat on the side of the bed, reading whatever is on the screen, and I spring up, grabbing my jacket and purse, ready to flee.
“Is it Andy?” I ask, shrugging on my jacket.
Robbie nods, still looking at his phone.
“Is he sending a car?” I press impatiently.
“They’re still down there,” he says after a silent pause.
“No,” I whisper as my hope dwindles.
“Andy says it’s probably best to just wait it out for the night.”
My jaw drops. “Are you serious?”
Robbie nods, a deep crease etched between his brows as he types something into his phone.
“Fuckinggreat,” I mutter, taking off my jacket again and tossing it and my purse back onto the armchair.
I kick off my Vans and move to the cabinetry lining the far wall.Opening the door to the fridge, I find the stash of hotel goodies kept inside, helping myself to an expensive looking bottle of wine because if I have to stay here all night in a hotel room with Robbie Mason, you bet your ass I’m not doing it sober.
CHAPTER 14
ROBBIE
Tugging on my bottom lip, I stare at my phone, wondering what the hell I’m even doing.
Andy: I just called the night manager. He said everyone’s gone. I’ll order Fran a car.
Me: She’s asleep.
Andy: Huh?
Me: She fell asleep.
Andy: So… wake her up.
Me: Nah, it’s okay. She can just leave in the morning.
Andy: You’re not fucking are you?
Me: Gross.
Maybe I’ve finally lost my mind. It was bound to happen eventually. I just never imagined I’d lose it over a girl I can’t even stand.
Call me crazy, but I don’t want Fran to leave. I’ve spent so much of my adult life alone in hotel rooms that it’s nice to have someone here with me. Even if that person is Fran fucking Keller.
If I’m honest, I think something might’ve happened to me in the elevator on the way up here. Because I haven’t been the same since. Being so close to her, just the two of us, confined to a tiny six-by-eight steel box, her sweet scent accosted every one of my senses. And don’t even get me started on that fucking jersey. Why I didn’t just grab her one from the merch closet I have no idea, but the fact that she’s wearingmyjersey—specifically made for me—that’s some serious relationship shit. I’m a fucking idiot.
“Robbie?”
I startle, looking up from my phone finding Fran holding a wine bottle.
Oh, yeah. I think she asked me a question.
