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What a mess.
When we land, I’m still trying to get rid of the nastiness that’s been clinging to me like a second skin ever since I woke up. Snatching my carry-on from the overhead compartment, I make my way off the airplane, moving along with the crowd to find my way out of the airport as fast as I can.
It takes me longer than I’d like but I’m finally outside, going to one of the waiting taxis. I give the driver the address of the hotel I booked for the long weekend, and off we go.
After I’m checked in and in my room, I jump into the shower, still trying to get rid of the last remnants of my dream. It’s screwing with my head, and I hate it. It also makes me want to find Harper and see what she’s doing, which is ridiculous because she didn’t do anything wrong.
There’s also the fact I don’t even know where she lives. Something I was hoping to rectify this weekend. It’s only fair since she knows where I live. Ironically, the fact I don’t know where she lives is the one thing I’m clinging to in order to convince myself that the dream was really just that, a figment of my imagination. My subconscious clearly has a sick sense of humor, but soon, I’ll laugh about it. Surely.
My stomach growls as I sit on the bed in nothing but a towel. I missed my meal on the flight because I fell asleep, which means the last time I ate was lunch after my morning training, which was well over six hours ago. Since I’m lazy and don’t feel like going anywhere tonight, I order something from room service.
While I wait, I lie on the bed and grab my phone to send a text to Harper. Are you nervous about tomorrow? It’s her first trimester screening appointment and one of the reasons I wanted to be here. Thank goodness she texted me the info about her doctors and the appointments a while back, which allows me to surprise her. Now I just hope it’ll be a good surprise.
Then I type out another message, but this time to my brother.
Ryan: Remember, no parties at my place this weekend.
My brother replies right away.
Zane: Will you relax, dude? I told you I need to study and I meant it.
Ryan: You told me something similar before, and it took me several weeks to get the stench out of the house.
Zane: I was a stupid teenager back then.
Ryan: That was last year.
Zane: Fair enough. I promise I’ll behave this time.
Ryan: You better.
I throw the phone on the bed and grab a pair of shorts and a T-shirt from my bag. Although I’m used to being half-naked most of the time, I don’t feel like accepting my dinner in only a towel.
If Harper were here, that would be a totally different scenario.
Harper.
Half-naked with Harper.
Fully naked with Harper.
All my blood rushes south, and I’m rock-hard in a matter of seconds. Great. Exactly what I need after the day I’ve had.
I ignore my dick and get changed, successfully covered up by the time there’s a knock on the door.
The hotel employee leaves my tray on the table by the window, and I snatch my phone from the bed to get comfortable in the plush dining chair.
My phone vibrates with a response from Harper as I dig into my salad.
Harper: Sooooo nervous. I made the big, big, biiiiig mistake and googled first trimester screening to read about all the tests they do and what can go wrong. I’m telling you now, do not do that. DO. NOT. DO. THAT. Under no circumstances. You hear me? I’m scared enough for the both of us.
Ryan: Harper! I told you not to do that. I’ll call you in a bit.
Harper: I know, I know. But I couldn’t help myself. I told Bacon I really shouldn’t do it, but I was weak. Also, just for the record, Bacon was no help whatsoever.
Ryan: Poor guy.
Harper: Poor guy? Poor me. He’s supposed to be my friend.
