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Yet the impulse to heedlessly throw caution to the wind grew louder and louder the longer she stared at the keycard in her hand. After such a disastrous interview, she felt like saying fuck it all.
Harrison said he’d have something on ice, and she needed a drink. She wanted to tune the world out and forget everything for a while, just get lost and not feel this unending pressure to be the mature adult.
She glanced at the elevator door and then at the entrance into the lobby. The desk clerk was on the phone, his gaze focused on the computer. No one from the interview had followed her out of the boardroom.
Before sensibility could step in and ruin everything, she hit the call button and the elevator opened. She rushed inside and muttered, “Some things never change.” Her chipped nail stabbed into the button for the second floor just as her stomach dropped down to her toes.
CHAPTER 3
The elevator deposited her on the second floor and the doors closed at her back. Mariella pivoted, instantly regretting her decision, but the illuminated numbers overhead tracked the elevator to the fifth floor.
“Shit.” She pressed the call button anxiously and waited.
What was she thinking? She couldn’t meet Harrison in his private room. What did she think would happen?
Well, she knew what would happen—hoped something might happen—and damn her for falling right back into the same gullible trap she had years ago.
Why wasn’t the elevator moving? It seemed stuck on five.
But what if she did go through with it? What if she found his room, knocked, and just kissed him the moment he opened the door?
Her heart misfired about her ribs as thrilling possibilities flashed through her mind. Flesh on flesh. Mouths biting and tongues licking. God, it had been so long since she’d had decent sex.
But Harrison was never just sex. No. With him, it was a form of possession. Almost sacramental, like she was promising her soul to something untouchable and all-powerful.
Jesus, she needed to get the hell out of there. Her finger stabbed into the glowing call button, but the elevator remained frozen on five.
Would he let her? Of course, he would. He was a man. She could picture him lifting her off her feet and kicking the door shut as she wrapped her legs around his hips.
“Shit.” Her stare drilled into the numbers above the door. “Come on,” she hissed.
She needed to calm down. Forcing her hand into her pocket so as not to break the elevator, she traced her thumb along the edge of smooth plastic. His room key was more than a blanket invitation to contact him. That was a pass into the place where he slept. Because really, what were hotel rooms aside from four walls and a bed?
Her stomach swooped as another collage of sensual images rushed through her mind. Maybe this was exactly what she needed. He was only visiting after all. If she knew from the start what she was getting into, what harm was there in a little dalliance?
She could have control. She could be the one to walk away.
Technically, she could call it self-care.
Okay, that was reaching.
She pinched the bridge of her nose and looked up at the numbers. “Are you kidding me?” Still on five. She searched the hall for signs to a stairwell, which carried her deeper down the corridor and further away from the elevator.
She’d never had an official booty call and wasn’t sure if she could handle something so casual, even with someone less important than Harrison. It was weird, she and Harrison had never labeled themselves as an official couple, but there had never been anything casual about them. That was why his abandonment hurt so much in the end. She’d always thought she meant more to him than she actually had.
Shame or regret or something equally icky filled her, and she started to panic. Where the hell were the emergency exits in this place?
As her feet rushed over the tread of the Williamsburg floral carpet, she tried to escape the truth she didn’t want to face. He probably hadn’t thought of her since the day he left. They were a high school fling, for God’s sake. He probably had a dozen women since her—maybe more.
Her stomach soured at the thought.
Or maybe this wasn’t about sex at all, and she was reading way too far into his invitation. What if this was just a way to catch up after lost time? It had been ten years. He might not even find her attractive anymore.
He probably remembered her as the little freshman who followed him around moon-eyed until the night she forced him to acknowledge her. Girls weren’t supposed to get hung up on the guy they lost their virginity to unless they ended up marrying him.
Long-term commitment had never been what her and Harrison were about. Her lingering emotions for him only proved how pathetic her relationship history was. God, she needed to get out more and start dating again.
