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“It’s late.” He checked his phone. Then he opened the app where literally millions of strangers followed him. What was it like to be admired by that many people?
“Did we go viral yet?” She didn’t know how she felt about being on his social media channel. Excited? Weird? Both?
“Not yet, but there are no shortage of comments.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Most of them encouraging me to kiss you.”
“They saw that coming.”
“Guess so.” He continued scrolling. “And—”
“Don’t tell me any bad ones.”
“There aren’t any. But I have good moderators who delete them for me.” He winked. “I was going to say that someone has offered to replace your shoes.”
“Seriously?”
“Yup, and... I don’t know if you want to know this.”
“What? What is it?”
“There are a lot of peach emojis. Alot.”
“Oh, god.” She shielded her eyes. “In reference to my ass, I’m guessing.”
“Well, I did refer to you as Peaches. But in their defense, you do have a fantastic ass, so probably.” He chuckled, wily and wicked. Both of those attributes were doing it for her tonight. That was a first. “I assume you have to go back to your room soon.”
As much as she hated to admit he was right, she had a million things to do. Reluctantly, she pushed out of her seat and collected her purse. “It’s probably the best idea to call it a night.”
“Far from the best idea,” he argued as he stood with her. “I’ll walk you to your room.”
Ten
“Floor?” Trick asked as they entered the elevator.
“Six.”
He pressed the button.
“Are you on six, too?”
“Four.” He cleared his throat, uncharacteristically nervous. Rylee, unlike most people he encountered in his day to day, intimated the hell out of him. It wasn’t her wealthy upbringing, either. Trick had been in the company of famous people on-and-off in his life. Hell, he’d crashed more than a few events where celebrities had been in attendance.
No, the intimidation factor with Rylee was that he didn’t want to blow his shot with her. He couldn’t tell where her head was, and found himself guessing instead of knowing what she wanted. Confidence was his baseline, but she’d knocked him off balance. He’d been on the balls of his feet since she’d walked into his tailoring appointment.
They arrived on her floor. He stepped out of the elevator and walked with her in silence down a corridor. She turned right. He followed. Her room—a suite—was set apart from the other rooms for privacy. A note hung on the handle and she lifted it to read the message.
“My package arrived from Ariana. She sent me a gift. So thoughtful.” Rylee slapped the notecard against her palm, a nervous gestured while lingering at the door. “Do you—”
“Yes.” They’d had a phenomenal day, and evening, and he wasn’t ready for it to be over.
“You don’t know what I was going to ask,” she said around bubbly laughter.
“Do I...want to see the gift? Do I want to have a nightcap? Do I want a kiss before I travel two lonely floors to my own room?” He shrugged. “All yeses.”
“You’ll get a kiss, at least, Trick.” She let that tantalizing comment dangle like bait on a hook as she let them into her room. Correction, hersuite. It was easily three times bigger than his own room in the Bellamy, with an office area, a living room, and of course, the bedroom. He followed her to the desk, glancing over at the crisp white comforter covering the bed mere feet away.
She opened the shiny black box wrapped in white ribbon to reveal a selection of products Ariana had chosen for her. “Wow, what an amazing selection. She picks the best stuff.”
“Most lifestyle brands do.” He grabbed a bottle of massage oil from the box. “Are you a fan of guava?” He showed her the label. “It’s edible.”
