“The Sunrise,” he says, naming the very expensive hotel on the boardwalk. It’s not far from here, maybe a quarter mile down, and has both normal rooms and small townhomes that can be rented long-term. I’ve heard that the entire place is absolutely stunning, though despite living here my entire life, I’ve never had a reason to enter the building.
Until, possibly, now.
“Big baller,” I say with a smile and a raised eyebrow.
“My work put me up in it,” he says with a nonchalant lift of his shoulder. “So? What do you say?” His fingers on my waist graze the bare skin where my tee meets my shorts, and I shiver. “I really don’t want to end our night here.”
I weigh his offer, biting my lip even though I know I’m going to say yes.
“Okay,” I say. “But full disclosure, I'm telling my friends I’m with you, and they have my location.” He nods but doesn’t let me go. “Women’s safety, and all.”
“I’d be worried if you didn’t,” he says. I smile at him, wide and genuine, before he finally lets me go. “Take your time.”
I tap out a quick text to my group chat, then slide my phone into my bag, ignoring the suddenly blasts of texts.
“Let’s go.”
One drink turns to two, and through them both, we sit close in the dimly lit bar, chatting low, and I thoroughly enjoy myself. We talk about absolutely nothing, my telling him a bit about Seaside Point, and him sharing the most minuscule details about himself, but each one feels like a prize, some snippet about his life that I earned. True to his word, we stay away from talking about work, though I learn the basics about him.
Not long after the second drink is gone, he gets the check, paying without giving me the time to offer, and then leading me out of the bar with a hand on my lower back. With each step, a strange and unexpected disappointment fills me, knowing our night is ending.
“Well,” I say when we stand in the luxurious lobby, biting my lip. “It was very nice bumping into you again.”
“Seemed very lucky,” he murmurs, voice low and rolling through me warm and hot. He’s standing close, not touching me, though my skin feels hyperalert, anticipating the lightest graze.
“I told you, I’m a very lucky person.”
He looks at me, eyes dropping to my lips as he steps closer. My heart pounds with the small movement and is almost beating out of my chest with his next words.
“I would very much like for you to come upstairs with me,” he murmurs, and my breathing stops. “You don’t have to, of course. No pressure at all. Only if you’d like, otherwise, thank you for a drink with a gorgeous woman.”
The invite hangs in the air between us, tempting and nerve-racking.
Claire and Lainey’s promise to me rings through my mind: to take advantage of all the opportunities the universe sends our way.
Well, this is an opportunity, right?
“Yeah,” I say, breathy and dazed. “Let’s go up.”
His eyes go hot with promise, and that heat curls in my belly before he tips his chin to me.
“Text your friends,” he says, and I look at him, confused, before it registers. Another tip of his lips. “Women’s safety and all.”
He’s hot, and he’sfunny,too, in that crazy way I find him far too attractive. It can be off-putting for some men, the dry, brusque kind of humor, but on him it’s not. It just fits his personality perfectly.
I’m heading up to the hot guy's hotel room.
C: WHAT?
L: What’s his name and room number?
“What’s your name. And room number?” I ask, looking up at him. I expect him to balk, but he doesn’t, instead giving me both quickly.
“Graham Hawthorne. Room 372.”
I nod, type in the information, andI will give you guys all the details in the morning. Talk to you then.I hit send.Before they even get the chance to respond, I silence my phone andslide it into my bag, taking in a deep breath. My hands are nearly shaking with nervous energy, and I bite my lip before smiling wide at Graham. “Done.”
“Let’s go,” he says, gesturing toward the elevator bank, and as we walk, he settles his hand on my lower back, sending more anticipatory heat through me. I haven’t even kissed this man, and I am somehow absolutelydesperatefor him.
