It’s been about twenty minutes since Patrick left the room to grab a coffee, but I’m pretty sure he only left because he wanted me to have some privacy, which I appreciate. Being the way that I am, I would’ve never asked him for space, but it is much needed. Lacking the ability to relax due to all of the recent developments, I lay here in this big, comfy bed and stare at the ceiling.
Before I give up completely, the overwhelming urge to take a shower hits me. Lifting my shirt up to my nose, I realize that I reek of coffee—and old milk. Gross. I pull it up over my head and toss it in the corner of the room, knowing that I’ll probably pick it up later. Trying to get rid of any trace of the coffee scent, I strip off the rest of my clothes, but it is literally in my skin at this point.
I audibly sigh in relief when I step into the shower. The hot water spills over my body, and the stress of this afternoon washes away with the grime and dirt. In my opinion, there is not much that a good shower can’t fix.
I don’t wash my hair, but I do take advantage of the fact that I don’t have to pay the water bill here and stay in for far too long. Tiny shampoos and conditioners are shoved to the side to make room for my products. I’ve always hated hotel-provided toiletries. Don’t get me wrong, they are cute and convenient, but I like my own stuff.
While every inch of my body is being scrubbed down, I debate whether or not I should shave. Realizing that I might endup in the pool or wearing shorts, I decide that it would probably be smart to do it, just in case. There is no doubt that I will have to shave my legs for tomorrow’s fancy dinner, so it would be efficient to do it now. The dress that I brought with me has a slit up the thigh, and I don’t want to be looking like a sasquatch while trying to impress Patrick’s coworkers.
I swear, guys have it so much easier. The only shaving they need to worry about is their face—and that’s only sometimes. If they wear something that’s not basketball shorts, it’s considered fashionable, but women need to make themselves up and find the perfect outfit to flatter their body shape. It’s totally unfair.
The hotel-provided robe feels like a cloud wrapped around me as I plop myself back on the bed, scrolling through my phone until Patrick comes back.
The door opens when I’m in the middle of checking my assignments for the week, so I don’t look up. But, the way Patrick reacts brings my attention up to him.
“Oh my—” Patrick quickly covers his face. “I thought you’d be dressed. I can go.”
When he starts to turn around to walk out of the room, I yell for him to stop. I am far from indecent sitting in this robe, but it is cute that seeing me like this flusters him .
“No, don’t go! I have no idea what I’m going to wear, and I need to see what you’re wearing so I can coordinate.” I do my best not to sound neurotic, but this is how I’ve always been.
Peeking through his fingers at me, he slowly removes his hand shield. “Oh, okay. That makes sense.”
He neatly picks through his small suitcase and pulls out a pair of dark gray, linen shorts and a clean white collared shirt, which are surprisingly not wrinkled. It's simple, but I like that.
Deciding that now is the best moment to bring up something that’s been on my mind, I speak up. “Hey, um, I had a thought about the boundaries that we came up with for our fake relationship. Do you have a second?”
“Sure, what's on your mind?” His expression fills with intrigue.
I bite my lip and take a deep breath before just coming out with it. “Well, our original plan about PDA was that you ask me first to see if I’m okay with it before you do anything—” I look at him for acknowledgement, and he gives a small nod to continue. “But, I was thinking that it might look weird if you had to do that every time we had physical contact while we are here. Being in such close proximity with everyone, I just don’t want people to start noticing things and then questioning what is happening between us. So, I want to give you the same courtesy that you gave me. If you feel like you want to show any form of affection, you should just do it. I feel like we’re past the uncomfortable stage with each other, or at least I think we are. So, it might be best if we just go off of our instincts.”
“Uh, yeah, that makes a lot of sense, El.” I expect him to have more of a reaction to what I said, but I guess it’s not a big deal. “Good thinking.”
“Oh, and one last thing. Since we are a couple, you probably shouldn’t run frantically out of the hotel room after witnessing me in a robe. Seeing how most of your coworkers are on this floor, it might be a tad bit suspicious.”
Not making eye contact with me, he lets out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, you’re definitely right about that.”
“Good! Now that everything is out in the open, we can finally relax.”
Phone in hand, I go back to my mindless scrolling, but as he lays his clothes out on the bed, I feel his eyes on me.
My suspicions are correct as my gaze meets his. Nodding towards the bathroom, he asks, “Are you all done in there? I was hoping to get in a quick shower before we went to dinner.”
“Yeah, it’s all yours.” I watch as Patrick roams into the bathroom while taking off his shirt. A peek of his stomach is visible before he vanishes into the doorway, and my face warms up feeling like a bit of a creep for staring. Although Patrick has never mentioned working out or playing sports before, it would be hard to believe he wasn’t a little athletic. He doesn’t really seem like a gym guy, but when I was sitting in his lap with my arms around him in the bar, I distinctly remember him feeling sturdy and firm under my touch. My fingers flex, remembering my hands on his body, before I snap back to reality and finish getting ready.
It took me a while, but I finally decided on a pair of flowy black pants and a white sleeveless blouse I found at my favorite boutique a couple years ago.
As we walk through the lobby, I catch a glimpse of us in one of the large mirrors, and we actually look like a real couple.Our outfits do a good job at complementing each other, and the way that Patrick towers over me is incredibly sexy.
Patrick and I hold hands as we head into the restaurant, and I’m relieved to see Wes is at our table. Goosebumps form on my skin as Patrick whispers to me that the cute, petite woman sitting beside him is Natalie. I remember seeing her talking to Wes during happy hour, but I didn’t know exactly who she was. Apparently, she is another data analyst on Patrick’s team, which I didn’t realize washisteam until right now. His breath is warm on my neck as he tells me that she and Tom got hired at almost the same time because of the company’s rapid expansion a few years ago. I love how much he smiles when he talks about his job, and it surprises me that I don’t get bored when they discuss the day to day problems over dinner.
Everyone has been very considerate of me at the table, but there are a lot of things that I don’t fully understand. This is always how it is though, and I don’t want to feel like I’m interrupting or making it all about me. Doing my best to be the doting, attentive girlfriend, I sit quietly and listen.
When the conversation moves away from Patrick, I lean over and whisper proudly, “Why didn’t you tell me that you are their boss?”
He opens his mouth to speak when Natalie cuts in. I thought I was being quiet, but apparently not. “Well, he’stechnicallyour boss, but he never makes it feel that way. He always wants our insights and opinions, and he never gets mad when we make mistakes or noticehe’smade a mistake.”
Natalie continues praising Patrick. It seems like she’s trying to make a good impression with me, but I can’t help feeling a pang of jealousy in my gut.
