Page 68 of Wish You Knew
Both of us were desperate to taste the other, all thoughts of food were pushed to one side. Within seconds, our clothes were in a pile on the floor.
“I could get used to starting the mornings like this,” I sighed, snuggling up to Scott.
Scott brushed a strand of hair away from my face. “Me too.”
There was a knock on the door. “Housekeeping.”
Another shriek escaped my lips and I grabbed the robe I’d discarded, not wanting anyone to see me naked.
“It’s okay, I made sure I put the security latch on,” Scott whispered, his lips brushing my neck.
Sure enough, the door opened only a few inches and a voice said, “Oh, I didn’t realise you were still here.”
“We’ll be checking out soon,” I called back. “Sorry for the inconvenience.” I breathed a sigh of relief once it closed again.
“Hungry now?”
“For you? Always.” The corner of my mouth pulled up and I leaned over and kissed the tip of Scott’s nose. “And for breakfast now too. Time to wait on me.” I shoved him out of bed.
Naked, he padded over to the table and I admired the view. Satisfaction settled over me.
“I didn’t know what you wanted, so I pretty much got their entire breakfast menu.”
He wasn’t wrong, the bag bulged with croissants, sweet and savoury, porridge, fruit and an acai and almond butter bowl. There were also two coffees, which had gone cold.
“You really did cover everything.”
“Shame there’s no syrup to cover you with.” Scott winked, reminding me of our first breakfast together at his country house.
“Seriously, Scott, if you carry on like this, we’ll never leave this hotel room!”
His expression grew serious. “I have one condition if we’re going to make a go of this relationship.”
My brows knotted together. “No syrup in bed?”
He laughed, shaking his head. “No more hotel rooms. Unless it’s for very special occasions of course. I don’t just want to shag you and leave you. I’m in this for the long term. If you want it too.”
Scott’s single stipulation for our relationship going forward was one I was totally prepared to accept. I threw my arms around his neck, scattering the breakfast options across the bed. “Oh, I want it. More than anything.”
Epilogue
“I’m not living in Manchester.” Rosie threw down the property particulars on the coffee table. She shifted position and sat with her legs stretched out on the sofa, her back against the arm.
“Wait, what?” My head snapped around to face her. “What’s wrong with Manchester?”
She hefted a sigh. “My life’s in London. My agent. Castings. Easy access to transport.”
“Get a new agent. And, um, didn’t you fly into Manchester Airport from Paris?”
We were at Mum and Vivian’s house again. After the charity dinner, we’d holed up in Rosie’s house for three days before she had to fly off for a shoot. I’d headed home for a bit, spending some time in the studio with the rest of the band. The new music sounded absolutely epic and we were chomping at the bit to get it out into the world. Our management team couldn’t stop praising us. This next album could really be the one to elevate Trash Gun to the next level.
“My friends are in London.” Rosie pouted. “I don’t know anyone up here.”
“What about Ellie fromSFU? I’m sure she’d be happy to give you more work, given the success of the last campaign.” I winced, realising it might remind her of the crap with Mark. In some ways though I had to be grateful to the bastard for getting us together.
“I can’t only do lingerie work.”
I swept my gaze over her body, clad in one of my old Trash Gun merch t-shirts. Cut deep at the sides, I caught a subtle glimpse of side boob and my dick twitched. “Oh, I don’t know…”
