the hell was that?
Staring after him, I watched the bodies swallow him up. It was unsettling, and I felt relief when he appeared again in a corner, a new drink in his fist. The man had an uncanny talent for pushing my rules. My feet were throbbing too much for me to chase him down and ask him to quit, so I stumbled to a chair and dropped into it with a big, satisfied sigh of exhaustion. This partying stuff was no joke.
Finally, people started leaving. I counted them for fun, like they were sheep—but that was a terrible mistake, because it made me sleepy. No, I thought in a panic, This isn't just sleep. I drank too much. Shit shit shit. I immediately texted my sister: Lanie, I cannot drink like I did in college!! Sooo tipsy.
Lanie responded: Oh, like you ever partied hard in college, lightweight. Drink water. Take a deep breath. You’ll be fine.
I took my sister’s advice and grabbed a bottle of water from the suite’s bar. But what I really needed was some fresh air. I made it to the sliding glass doors without stumbling too badly in my new shoes, but once I got out there I realized that Hunter was already on the balcony.
He also wasn't alone.
While I'd been sure I'd counted the last party-goer as they exited, he was standing next to the jacuzzi talking to a tall blonde in a bandage dress who was practically drooling all over him. She kept touching his arm while tilting her head back and exploding into drunken giggles.
Then she leaned really close, and I was terrified she'd kiss him and that I'd have to see her kiss him. Acting on impulse, I shouted, "Wow! What a view!" They both startled, staring at me with mixed emotions. Real smooth, Jo. “Fancy meeting you out here,” I said, trying to sound as put-together as possible.
Hunter wasn't smiling, his voice brittle on the edge. Had I pissed him off by interrupting him? “I needed to get away from everything. I could use a break from all the socializing, you know?”
“I totally know,” the blonde gushed. Hunter shot me a pained expression, and I noticed his body was angled away from her, his intense eyes not breaking contact with mine.
Finally, I caught on. He wanted the girl who was out there with him to leave. And as his official handler, I knew exactly what to do.
Swaying towards them, I said, “Hi there, um, what’s your name, again?”
“Christina,” she slurred.
“Christina, are you staying at the hotel?”
“Uh huh,” she giggled.
“You know, you look tired. Are you tired?”
“I—”
“You do look tired,” Hunter cut her off. “But you gave me your number already, right?”
“Uh huh,” she nodded.
“Great!” I said. “Let’s get you to your room so you can get some rest.”
“But Hunter and I . . . ”
“Hunter is tired, too. Time to call it a night.” I led Christina back into the hotel room. Then I dialed down to the front desk to send someone up to make sure she got back to her own room safely. A few minutes later, a concierge knocked.
Gently, I guided Christina out into the hall, tipping the employee a twenty as she whisked the blonde away. Done and done.
I went back out on the balcony and looked around. Shit. I’d lost Hunter. For a moment I panicked, wondering what sort of shenanigans he’d probably gotten himself into while I was distracted from my post, then wondering with growing horror if the whole thing with Christina had been a distraction so he could sneak away and raise hell out in the wilds of Los Angeles in front of a few camera lenses.
His voice came from behind me, low and gritty. “Hey, Jo.”
I whirled toward the sound. There he was, shirtless, lounging in the hot tub. My breath caught in my throat. The glittering LA skyline was spread out behind him, but all I could focus on was his hot, wet body.
Hunter was covered in ink, the harsh blacks and orange colors highlighting the cutting edges of his muscles. With his arms stretched behind him, elbows high, he made it easy to see the long and
Staring after him, I watched the bodies swallow him up. It was unsettling, and I felt relief when he appeared again in a corner, a new drink in his fist. The man had an uncanny talent for pushing my rules. My feet were throbbing too much for me to chase him down and ask him to quit, so I stumbled to a chair and dropped into it with a big, satisfied sigh of exhaustion. This partying stuff was no joke.
Finally, people started leaving. I counted them for fun, like they were sheep—but that was a terrible mistake, because it made me sleepy. No, I thought in a panic, This isn't just sleep. I drank too much. Shit shit shit. I immediately texted my sister: Lanie, I cannot drink like I did in college!! Sooo tipsy.
Lanie responded: Oh, like you ever partied hard in college, lightweight. Drink water. Take a deep breath. You’ll be fine.
I took my sister’s advice and grabbed a bottle of water from the suite’s bar. But what I really needed was some fresh air. I made it to the sliding glass doors without stumbling too badly in my new shoes, but once I got out there I realized that Hunter was already on the balcony.
He also wasn't alone.
While I'd been sure I'd counted the last party-goer as they exited, he was standing next to the jacuzzi talking to a tall blonde in a bandage dress who was practically drooling all over him. She kept touching his arm while tilting her head back and exploding into drunken giggles.
Then she leaned really close, and I was terrified she'd kiss him and that I'd have to see her kiss him. Acting on impulse, I shouted, "Wow! What a view!" They both startled, staring at me with mixed emotions. Real smooth, Jo. “Fancy meeting you out here,” I said, trying to sound as put-together as possible.
Hunter wasn't smiling, his voice brittle on the edge. Had I pissed him off by interrupting him? “I needed to get away from everything. I could use a break from all the socializing, you know?”
“I totally know,” the blonde gushed. Hunter shot me a pained expression, and I noticed his body was angled away from her, his intense eyes not breaking contact with mine.
Finally, I caught on. He wanted the girl who was out there with him to leave. And as his official handler, I knew exactly what to do.
Swaying towards them, I said, “Hi there, um, what’s your name, again?”
“Christina,” she slurred.
“Christina, are you staying at the hotel?”
“Uh huh,” she giggled.
“You know, you look tired. Are you tired?”
“I—”
“You do look tired,” Hunter cut her off. “But you gave me your number already, right?”
“Uh huh,” she nodded.
“Great!” I said. “Let’s get you to your room so you can get some rest.”
“But Hunter and I . . . ”
“Hunter is tired, too. Time to call it a night.” I led Christina back into the hotel room. Then I dialed down to the front desk to send someone up to make sure she got back to her own room safely. A few minutes later, a concierge knocked.
Gently, I guided Christina out into the hall, tipping the employee a twenty as she whisked the blonde away. Done and done.
I went back out on the balcony and looked around. Shit. I’d lost Hunter. For a moment I panicked, wondering what sort of shenanigans he’d probably gotten himself into while I was distracted from my post, then wondering with growing horror if the whole thing with Christina had been a distraction so he could sneak away and raise hell out in the wilds of Los Angeles in front of a few camera lenses.
His voice came from behind me, low and gritty. “Hey, Jo.”
I whirled toward the sound. There he was, shirtless, lounging in the hot tub. My breath caught in my throat. The glittering LA skyline was spread out behind him, but all I could focus on was his hot, wet body.
Hunter was covered in ink, the harsh blacks and orange colors highlighting the cutting edges of his muscles. With his arms stretched behind him, elbows high, he made it easy to see the long and
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