Harpoc grins, still tapping his lips, enjoying watching my reactions.
Two pairs of socks, his and hers, two pairs of white sweatpants, a matching white hoodie, and two white T-shirts follow.
I start jiggling my foot as I realize… there’s only one bed.
The steward takes to cleaning up the wrappings.
I glance at Harpoc, and my stomach quivers.
The sneaky bastard “somehow” arranged for this particular room. How? I’ve no idea, but there can be no doubt. I’ve no comprehension of what all his secret magic can do, but it’s definitely behind this. He knew this room has only one bed.
I’m definitely attracted to him, but…
Butterflies start two-stepping in my gut.
You undid his coat and messed with his wings. What did you expect, Pell?
It’s not that I’m not open to, you know… but I’ve just been playing.
Pell, do you honestly believe men find playful women uninspiring?
How would I know? I’m inexperienced, and he, most assuredly, is not.
Harpoc tips the guy, then follows him out and locks the door behind him. “You want to clean up first or shall I?” he asks, moseying back, hands back in his pockets.
“You… you go ahead.” My mouth goes dry.
“Are you okay, Pell?” He furrows his brow. “You look… worried.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
I paste on a smile that no doubt doesn’t reach my eyes.
Lines deepen his brow, but he heads into the bathroom, giving me a final look before shutting the door.
What should I tell him? Should I tell him anything?
I bite my lip as I gather my thoughts.
I can see it play out: Harpoc sits down in the matching armchair, the one that’s free of our coats, across from me, and leans back. He brings a hand up and starts tapping a finger against his lips, watching me.
My heart thuds at what I’m about to say. “Harpoc, I’ve never dated anyone, well at least not anything steady. Jimmy Palmer took me to the Space Cowboy Ball one time, and I went to my senior prom after which Alex Bates kissed me, but other than that…”
He tilts his head and purses his lips, waiting for me to go on.
It’s not the reaction I expect, not that I know what that is, and I start playing with the string on my hoodie.
“I was always so focused on my studies in college that I never made time for relationships, and since I’ve been out in the field…” Harpoc sits there, tapping his lips. I wish he’d do something, say something, but no. “… well, I wasn’t about to date a colleague.” I shake my head. “God, no.”
I’m rambling…
I bury my hands that have started sweating, under my legs.
“You see, I’ve never…”
I can’t bring myself to say it. I’m twenty-four and still a virgin. Not that I haven’t fantasized, mind you.
The imaginary scene stops. I can’t tell him. Nope. No way. He has his secrets, I definitely have mine.
My breathing calms with the decision. Who knows where this night might go; I’ll just go with the flow.
Because you’re so practiced at “going with the flow,” Pell. Sarcasm laces the words, and I roll my eyes.
I kick off my boots, then bounce my feet against the side of the bed as I wait for Harpoc to finish. My stomach picks up with the cha-cha the longer he takes.
He finally emerges dressed in a white-terry, hotel bathrobe and slippers I spotted in the closet and oh how my little heart does thump as I eye him up and down.
The hint of a tattoo peaks out from the V in the robe and onyx hair covers his legs, not a bear by any means, just a sexy-ass man.
Mmm, mmm, mmm.
He grins at my ogling. “You’re next.”
“On my way.” I hop off the bed and amble across to the bath. Boy, is it ever hot in here.
Several minutes later, the doorbell rings. I’m half cleaned up.
What tool of seduction has he ordered this time?
A goofy grin spreads across my face.
Pell, get ahold of yourself.
Shush, I’m going with the flow.
I towel off and brush out my hair, eyeing the swimsuit lying not-so-innocently on the dresser. My stomach gives up the cha-cha in favor of the tango, and I brush my teeth with the hotel toothbrush, clean out my ears with a swab, and remove the dirt from under my fingernails. What else can I do?
You’re stalling, Pell.
I know. I know.
I inhale sharply and take the bull by the horns, squeezing into the green one piece. That concierge’s eye was damn accurate. I don’t know if I should be relieved or worried.
I stand on my tiptoes trying to see all of me as I shift this way and that before the overlarge mirror, adjusting the lycra around my barely-out-of-a-training-bra size breasts.
Hope he’s not a boob guy or he’ll be sorely disappointed.
I jump up and down trying to see my legs in the mirror.
Pell, just look down.
Duh. I whack my brow with the heel of my hand.
You’re a scientist, Pell, stop being a dork.
Ugh. Both my hips bear colorful bruises, and my knee sports a scab from the spills I’ve taken. But there’s nothing to be done. I’ll have to keep covered and make a quick dash to the pool.
I slip into the remaining white-terry robe hanging in the closet and tie the belt. The thing falls to below my knees, just as well.
The rumba picks up in my gut as I slip on the overlarge white slippers, pull open the door and step out.
Harpoc smiles, stopping chewing, where he reclines in one of
