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“Well, shit.” He shook his head. “Alright, well, let’s go in.”
Wait, that was it? Rae watched him as he stepped forward and pressed his key card against the door, waiting for… something. Something more. Something to indicate what he was thinking. Did he just assume she was going to find somewhere else to go?
Or was he assuming she would stay with him the whole week?
The second one! The little dreamer in her voice said.
Bad idea.
Though, seriously, she needed to be taking notes on this. It was as improbable as the whole arriving at a hotel with a guy the heroine couldn’t stand, only to discover there was only one room still available and only one bed in the room. Although, the problem with Brian wasn’t that she couldn’t stand him. The problem was that they liked each other, were attracted to each other, but were just wrong for each other. Totally different scenario.
She could totally write an enemies-to-lovers where there actually were two rooms left, but then something happened in one of them, and the heroine needed to reluctantly seek out refuge in the hero’s room…
“Rae!” His stern voice snapped out her name, making her jump.
Crap. She was just standing there in front of Brian’s door, under the light in plain view, daydreaming. Rae jumped forward, scurrying in as Brian frowned at her from where he was standing in the middle of the room, hands on his hips.
“What were you doing?”
“Thinking.” Which wasn’t really a good explanation. “Having ideas for one of my books. Sorry. I get really lost in thought sometimes when that happens.” She really hoped he didn’t ask her what kinds of ideas she was getting. She wasn’t sure how he’d feel about her turning the circumstances of this week into a romance novel. Would he understand that she was just fictionalizing and romanticizing the situation? She didn’t know.
He raised an eyebrow as he closed the door, tilting his head in consideration.
“For your books? Does that happen a lot?”
“Sometimes.” Rae shrugged one shoulder, coming deeper into the room, closer to him. “I get ideas all the time. Normally, I try to write them down somewhere, but if I think them through enough, I can usually remember until I can write them down.” She wasn’t too worried about forgetting this idea.
Rather than answering her, Brian turned away and walked over to the side of the room. He picked up the resort’s notepad and pen that were sitting there before returning to hand it to her.
“Here.”
Blinking in surprise, Rae took it from him. “Um, shouldn’t we talk about my villa—or lack thereof—and what we’re going to do?
“After you write down what you need to.” He gestured toward the small table.
Well, fine then. Fuzzy warmth filled her as she went to sit down and write. Her friends had been mostly supportive of her writing endeavors. They bought her books and even read them. Her family… well, the reactions had been mixed. Damian, her ex, had rolled his eyes every time she’d brought them up. To be fair, he felt that way about the entire romance genre, not just her books.
That had definitely played into their breakup.
Having Brian react to her statement by immediately giving her what she needed was… well, she appreciated it as much as it made her want to kick him. Why did he have to be almost perfect?
Hmm. Almost Perfect. That would be a good name for a book.
Brian
Watching Rae write furiously on the notepad he’d provided her, Brian couldn’t help but smile. He didn’t know anything about being a writer, but he’d read her books, even though they weren’t his usual genre. Actually, they’d ended up expanding what he read because he went on to read some more romances from there and thoroughly enjoyed them.
He’d always been more of a sci-fi guy, but he’d never objected to some romance thrown in with his spaceships and aliens. It turned out that he rather liked reading about kinky romance especially. Granted, he wasn’t sure how he felt about seven-foot aliens with extra appendages on their dicks, but he’d given those books a try, too.
Thankfully, Rae wrote kinky contemporary romance with characters he’d found easy to relate to. She didn’t have many, but he was looking forward to the next one. Not that he’d tell her that. Since she didn’t talk about her writing much around the club, he wasn’t sure how she felt about people she knew reading her books. But he didn’t want to stop, so as long as she didn’t know, then she couldn’t tell him to stop.
Letting her write also gave him some time to figure out what he was going to do. Wandering over to the kitchenette, he got out two glasses and poured them both some water while he thought. It had been one thing to invite her to stay for a night, but the whole week? The problem was not that he wanted her out of his villa—the problem was how much he wanted her to stay.
On the other hand, were a few more nights really that big a deal? Had he really thought that one night with her and POOF, he’d be ready to go scene with someone else? He already knew that wasn’t going to be a thing. Even if she didn’t stay in his room for the rest of the trip, he was having trouble picturing himself scening with anyone else.
Picturing her scening with someone else made him want to put his fist through the wall.
The obvious solution to both problems was for her to just stay the rest of the week. That way, he wouldn’t have to try to force himself to scene with someone he wasn’t interested in, and he wouldn’t have to see her scene with anyone else.
