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He laughed. “I promise it’s nothing that graphic. Come on, open up.”
I hesitated. This felt like it was part of his plan to get even with me, whatever that may be. Coming to the front door instead of the divider…
But deep down, I wanted to know what he was going to do, so I unlocked the door and opened it.
“Was that so hard?” He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “Come watch TV with me downstairs.”
TV? That’s all you want to do?
“I’m watching TV right now,” I replied.
“I’m sick of my room,” he insisted. “I know you feel the same way, especially since it’s been raining outside. We have this whole big hotel to ourselves, so I figure we should take advantage of it.”
I glanced back into my room. “I don’t know. Italian George was just making fun of the way Italian Elaine dances…”
“We can watch Seinfeld on the TV in the lobby. It’ll be our socially-distanced third date. The lobby creeps me out when I’m the only person down there.”
In a taunting baby voice I said, “Well, I wouldn’t want you to bescaredin the lobby all by your lonesome…”
I put some shoes on and followed him into the hall. Now that we were in the same space, without a balcony or door dividing us, I was struck by just howstronghe appeared. He was broad-shouldered and walked with the easy gait of an athlete. He certainly didn’t look like a mere line cook.
And as I followed behind him, I caught a whiff of his scent. It was cologne, or after-shave, or a really nice deodorant. Whatever it was, it lit a fire in my chest and made me want to walk closer to him and breathe deeper.
To be safe, I took the elevator and Donovan took the stairs down to the lobby. We walked over to the sitting area across from the concierge desk, which had an array of couches and chairs around a flat-screen TV. I took an armchair and Donovan spread out on the couch a respectable distance away, stretching his legs out and putting his arms behind his head.
“You’re right,” he said after a few minutes. “Itisfunnier in Italian. The guy voicing Kramer is nailing it.”
I grinned over at him. “Wait until you see Newman.”
We laughed and relaxed together while watching TV. Despite the flirting and sexual tension of the past few days, I felt totally comfortable in his presence. Neither of us needed to talk. We were happy just watching TV together in silence.
It helped that he didn’t mention the lobby incident.
After three episodes, Donovan got up from the couch and stretched. “Hungry? I could go for a snack.”
“Sure. What are you making me?” I shot back at him.
“You have two choices. Whatever’s in vending machine number one, or whatever’s in vending machine number two.”
“Hmm, those both sound tasty,” I said. “You wouldn’t happen to have any oranges in your room, would you?”
He blinked. “Oranges? Afraid not.”
I sighed wistfully. “I would kill for an orange right now. I normally eat an orange with lunch every day, and I’ve got a bad craving. Um, I don’t know what I want. Surprise me?”
While he was gone I checked my phone. I had several news alerts. I scrolled through Twitter and gasped at what I saw.
“Shortbread, or lemon?” Donovan said when he returned, holding out two bags. All of his muscles stood out in wonderful contrast beneath his polo, but I was too stunned to eye-hump his sexy body.
“There’s news. From America.”
He lowered the cookies. “What happened?”
“California just shut everything down,” I said, holding up my phone. “Oregon and Washington are going to follow suit tomorrow.”
Donovan whistled. “The whole west coast?”
He lowered himself onto his couch and pulled out his phone. For the next few minutes we ate cookies and scrolled through the news, sharing with each other everything that we saw.
