Page 73 of Is This for Real?
“Yes, finish the book first.”
And I have friends in London. Not just friends but romance writers. They’re the ideal people to email asking for ideas of romantic things couples can do.
Chapter twenty-four
Iwakeupinmy airplane seat when they put the lights back on to serve us breakfast, only to find spittle on my chin. At least it’s not on Rory. I fell asleep on Rory’s shoulder right after dinner. So much for starting this on a romantic note. I was just so tired from working fourteen-hour days to pull my book together. Esther is reading the whole manuscript now.
Honestly, I’m not sure I can get both the guy and the book deal, but I’m willing to try.
We pull our rolling carry-ons up to the hotel entrance on Piccadilly. It’s only 10 a.m., but Rory was able to get an early check-in because of his hotel point status.
“I love London,” I say. “But I need a nap first.” I do not look gorgeous after a transatlantic plane flight. I do not hit the ground running. Rather, I look like someone whose face has been mushed against a sweatshirt pillow. As indeed it was. But it’s good for Rory to see me as I am.
“Me, too. Nap until one,” Rory says. “And then sights.”
We check in and get our room keys. We take the elevator up to our floor, push through some glass fire doors, and then open the door to our room. A double bed greets us.
“But I thought you said we’d have separate beds,” I say.
He blushes. “I asked for two beds. I can call the front desk and ask them to change our room.”
Aargh.I want to kick myself. I freaking shouldn’t have said anything. Now it looks like I want us to have single beds. I was just so shocked by the double bed. “No, no, it’s okay. We can manage a double bed.”
“No, I should call.”
Why doesn’t he want a double bed? He won’t be able to resist me, or he’s afraid I’ll attack him?
Rory calls the front desk. He nods his head. Then, holding his hand over the receiver, he says, “We can have two separate beds, but it will be this afternoon.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I want to nap now. We can share the bed.”
Rory nods and says into the phone, “It’s okay. We’ll keep the current room.”
“I call the bathroom first.” I unzip my suitcase, take out my toiletries, and disappear into the bathroom. I shower, wiping away the plane grime. I wish I’d brought my regular, cotton T-shirt and pajama pants. I only brought sexy nightgowns that Zelda made me buy for the trip. But they were supposed to entice from afar. I can’t believe I acted all prim and proper about the beds. I’m such an idiot.
I wrap my fluffy, white towel around me. I forgot to bring a change of clothes into the bathroom.Okay, channel Bridget Bardot in a towel.I have the chest, at least.
I walk out. “All yours.” I smile.
Rory looks up from his phone and does a double take.Wait until he sees my nightgowns.
I sashay past him toward my suitcase. The room is very small. There’s just the double bed, a desk and chair, and two couch chairs with a round table in-between in front of the window looking out over a back courtyard.
Rory grabs his stuff and retreats into the bathroom. I packed three casual T-shirts. I put on one and jump into bed, pulling the covers up. Sexy nightgowns must be saved for nighttime, not now, when we’re both desperate for sleep.
“Do you have a preference for which side of the bed?” I yell at the bathroom door.
“Right,” he says. I move over to the left side.
“Okay, I set my alarm for 1 p.m.” I curl on my side and close my eyes. I’m so jetlagged that Rory could get in the bed naked and I would not notice. And I need my beauty rest because I have a list of activities planned for the time that we have together, all courtesy of my romance writer friends.
Chapter twenty-five
Roostersarecrowing.It’sthe alarm. I hit snooze. But then I remember I’m in London. With Rory. In the same bed. I turn around to face him. We’re so close. Barely a foot separates our faces. And his hair. I just want to run my fingers through it. He’s got the most perfect chiseled cheekbones. It’s almost unfair that he gets that as a guy. His blue-green eyes open.
“Hey, Curls.”
“Hey, you. Ready for lunch?” I sit up in our incredibly luxurious and comfortable bed. The crisp, white sheets are rumpled now.
