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I pulled her closer to me and gave her a light, teasing kiss. “Anything for you, babe,” I replied.
We both took our seats at the table and started to eat. It was silent, which was unusual. Hazel usually asked me questions about my day or my writing. Could something still be wrong between us? I had to know, so I asked her, “Is everything okay?” I hoped this would get her talking, and I could share more of my ideas with her.
“Yes! Everything is great, especially this food,” she commented happily.
I just stared at Hazel in confusion. That wasn't the answer I had been expecting. We finished our dinner, then had chocolate cake and coffee for dessert.
As I put the food away and cleaned up, I anticipated what was going to happen next. It was what I had hoped would happen all evening. Our time together never ended without sexy time — that was what we referred to it as. After seeing Hazel in that dress tonight, I was definitely in the mood to make love to her.
After I put the resort’s dishes away, I turned around to look at her. My love stood in the middle of the room and appeared to be deep in thought. Walking up behind her, I wrapped my arms around her waist and began to kiss her neck. I heard her gasp softly, but then she pulled away from me, so I looked at her in confusion.
“I can't tonight, Alex. I'm making so much progress on my book. I need to get back to my room and finish writing,” Hazel explained.
I just stood there in shock.
She walked over to me and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for tonight, hon. It was sweet and wonderful,” she whispered before she walked out of the room.
I stood alone by the door of my hotel room for several minutes as I tried to process everything that had just happened, but I didn't get it. This dinner was supposed to make everything better between Hazel and me, but it didn't. It seemed like things were exactly the same between us.
I sighed in frustration, having no idea what to do next and feeling a bit angry that Hazel was choosing writing over spending time with me.
“Maybe I can catch her before group tomorrow and talk to her,” I said to myself. That seemed like the only option I had left. I changed into my pajamas and watched some tv before finally falling asleep. There was no way I would have been able to concentrate on my writing that night.
The following morning, I woke up and glanced at my watch. It was almost ten AM. “Crap! I overslept!” I yelled in a panic.
Now I felt more upset than yesterday. It was vital that I talk to Hazel before she became distracted by the other writers or her ideas again. I jumped out of bed and hurried to put my clothes and shoes on. Once dressed, I ran from the room and made it just in time to catch the elevator. I tapped my fingers against my thigh nervously the entire ride to the conference room.
The elevator doors opened once we reached the correct floor. I got out quickly and looked around the entire room for her. The writers in the group had already paired off and were deep in discussions. It took a few minutes, but I finally spotted Hazel seated in an armchair in a corner of the room. I smiled with relief when I saw her, but the smile was soon wiped from my face when I saw that she wasn't alone. Sitting in a chair next to her was Jay, the flirty writer.
As I watched them talk and laugh, I felt a knot of anger form in the pit of my stomach. Standing quietly in the corner of the room where they couldn't see me, I just stayed frozen.
After a while, Hazel got up, hugged Jay good-bye, and left. This was the opportunity I had been waiting for.
I took Jay by surprise as I walked up behind him. “Whoa! Little too close, dude!” he exclaimed as he tried to put some space between us.
Deliberately staying in the same spot, I glared at him for a few seconds before I said, “You better stay away from my girl!”
Jay blinked in confusion before defending himself. “Look, old man, I don't know you, and I have no idea what you are talking about!” he scoffed.
I took a step forward. “I'm talking about Hazel. She's my girl,” I informed him.
He laughed at me with disdain. “No, she's not! She's too young and pretty to be with you! You're just a dirty old man who needs to learn how to respect people!” The other writer sneered at me before he walked off. His words left me filled with anger.
