Page 90 of Late Bloomer
I feel like one classy motherfucker looking around this place. The lobby—if you can even bastardize it with that name;great hallis more fitting—is massive. The vaulted ceiling is supported by thick pillars of rich wood, and clusters of brown leather chesterfields and chairs create a coziness, the space capped at each end with granite fireplaces, at least ten feet wide.
After stopping at the front desk to get our room keys and a few directions about where competitor materials have been stored, we head to our room.
We take the elevator up, and Pepper reaches out, braiding our fingers together, then tucking our joined hands into the pocket of her sundress as we rise to the tenth floor. As the doors slide open, we look at each other. And grin at the absurdity of our luxurious accommodations.
Zips of electricity spark along my body as we run to our room. I fumble with the key, Pepper’s hands traveling over my body, her smile pressed into my neck, her laugh vibrating against my skin until I finally get the door open.
There are two beds, but we don’t give the second any attention, giggling and tripping our way to the one closest to the window, tangling on top of the sheets.
“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” Pepper whispers, hovering above me. Her smile is broad and electric, and she’s looking at me in a way that has me questioning if she means the competition or… us.
“I can,” I say, straining up to kiss the hollow at the base of her throat. The answer is true regardless of what she meant. That smile of hers somehow grows.
I wiggle out from beneath her, then stand up and jump on the luxe mattress, making Pepper’s body bounce and thrash,hair shooting out like ink in water. She squeals in delight, and I jump with all the force I have.
“Stop it,” she says, gripping one of my ankles. I crumple down, landing on top of her with anoof, and she laughs even harder. “You’re ridiculous,” she mumbles against my neck.
And it’s true. I’m ridiculous and hyper and a fool. All for her. I’d do anything to make her laugh.
She holds me tight against her chest, body shaking with giggles as her hands rub up and down my arms.
The shrill ring of the room’s phone slices through our happy haze.
“No!” I shriek, clutching her tighter. No intruders allowed.
With a groan, Pepper slides me off her, keeping me tucked to her side as she reaches for the phone.
“Hello?” Her voice is smooth and smoky like whiskey, and I nuzzle closer to her throat.
I can’t make out any words from the tinny voice on the other end, but whatever they say makes Pepper purse her lips. “Oh. Okay. I’ll be right down.”
She untangles herself to drop the phone back on the receiver, her cheeks flushed and eyes heavy-lidded as she looks at me.
“Who was that?” I ask, wrapping my arm around her waist, sliding her back into my clutches. I’m a greedy thief and I’ll rob her of every moment she’ll let me have.
“Front desk,” she says, giving me a soft kiss on the crown of my head. “Says there’s someone needing to talk to us in the lobby. I’m assuming it’s about the competition.”
“They probably saw our concept proposal and are ready to crown us winners on the spot,” I say with a yawn, stretching my arms over my head. It’s midday, but our room is so cozy and my limbs feel so languid with lust, I want to curl up here forever.
Pepper sits up and gets out of bed, pulling her long hair into a ponytail. “Wishful thinking,” she says, giving me her signature eye roll.
“Maybe,” I say, standing and readjusting my clothes. She steps toward the door but I grab her hand, placing a soft kiss to her palm. “Or maybe I just believe in us.”
Chapter 31PEPPER
The problem with letting your guard down for even a moment, is that you find yourself without any weapons the second you need them. And with Trish—her blonde beehive of hair bobbing as she looks at me, hot-pink lips stretched in a slimy grin—I need all the weapons I can get.
“What are you doing here?” I say, stopping in my tracks in the lobby, Opal at my side.
Trish’s smile falters for a moment, but she quickly recovers. “Well, hello to you too, doll,” she says, high heels clacking as she closes the distance between us, giving me a hug that makes my skin crawl. She holds me a second too long, the smell of nicotine and her vanilla perfume choking me.
“What are you doing here?” I repeat, lips numb, pressure building in my head as I stare at her. I feel Opal touch my hand, but I ignore it, my focus going to survival mode.
“Well, baby, I read about you in the papers, and I had tosee this for myself,” Trish says, lifting up her arms and doing a slow circle around the beautiful great hall. “I’m just so proud of you,” she says, reaching out and grabbing my hand. I really wish she would stop touching me.
“You read?” I say. I’m not trying to be funny, but Opal snickers at my side.
A flash of anger crosses Trish’s makeup-caked face, but she quickly schools her features. “I like to stay abreast of the happenings in my community,” she says, voice dripping with honey.
