Chances are, there’s another wedding guest in there. But at least their door won’t be locked and guarded. I hope
I just need to find a solution to my current conundrum: what can I tie the top of the sheet rope to?
The bedframe seemed like the most sensible option, but it scrapes across the floor whenever I put any weight on it. My current idea is to tie it to the brass doorknob because, despite my best efforts, that door hasn’t moved an inch yet.
But I need extra length to get the rope through the entirety of the room, which is why I’m currently rifling through Teo’s suitcase.
I try not to pry too much, but it’s hard for me not to judge the contents. The man has more laptops than he does pairs of boxer briefs, and the only item of clothing that doesn’t seem to have been purchased from T.J.Maxx is a pristine Rolex hidden at the bottom.
None of which helps me with the sheet-rope conundrum.
With a sigh, I snatch up a couple of hoodies and get to work. It’s not ideal, but it holds and stretches far enough to reach the open window below.
I give the knot around the doorknob one last experimental tug before I make my way back over to the window.
The drop isn’t any less terrifying, but it’s not like I have any other choice.
I secure the rope around my waist and slowly climb up onto the sill, testing the hold as I lean my body weight further and further out the window.
This will work. This will work. It has to work.
Suddenly, the rope goes slack.
My arms flail, reaching for something, anything to hold on to. My fingers graze the side of the window frame, just millimeters away from finding their grip. But nothing is stopping me from falling forward anymore.
That terrifying drop looms before me. Wind whistles in my ears. My heart rises to my throat as I begin to plunge down, down, down.
The rope suddenly tightens around my waist, slamming me into the side of the building.
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?”
A voice cries out from above, barely audible over the barrage of wind in my ears. Over the blood thumping through my brain.
Then, agonizingly slowly, someone hoists me up. Inch by inch, I return to the open window on the thirteenth floor.
Teo’s bare arms pool the sheet rope on the ground as I shakily climb back through the window into the safety of the hotel suite.
“Are you insane?” his voice is breathless as he looks at me.
I all but fly into his arms, my knees immediately buckling as soon as they hit solid ground. I’d fall to the floor if his arms weren’t there to catch me.
“I think so,” I gasp as I steady myself. Fuck. That was too close.
“We’re on the thirteenth goddamn floor!”
I look up at him then, straight into the panic of his endlessly dark eyes, noting the twist of concern on his mouth, the sweat of his rescue effort evident on his brow. This is a man who was so close to losing his greatest asset, he was willing to do anything to secure its safety.
“In my defense,” I reply, sounding more confident than I feel, considering I almost fell to my death. “It would have worked if you hadn’t opened the door.”
“And if it had, you’d have fallen the other hundred feet just fine?”
My mouth clamps shut at that. No need to let him know the truth, just in case the opportunity to escape arises again.
Instead, I take a moment to school my breathing. Closing my eyes as I inhale and exhale, I try to ignore the scent of soothing sandalwood as my heart returns to a semi-regular pace.
His tux jacket is open and loose; his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and the pin in his lapel hangs onto a single white rose by a thread.
Teo’s hands tighten around my arms. “Are you all right?”
