Page 74 of Things I Overshared
“Me, what areyouthinking? I’m off men, remember?!”
“You’re not seriously going to pass up a fling in London. You’ve lost your mind.” She shakes her head as we walk to find Sadie.
“Or maybe I’ve finally found my self-respect! When has a fling ever been a good idea for me? Huh?”
She concedes a bit. “Okay, so just a fun, flirty dinner then. Hell, if he wasn’t so stuck on you, I’d let him stick it to me, that’s for freaking sure.” She laughs, and I join her. “And the accent? I mean, dig me a grave because I am dying over here.”
We find Sadie and head to the car, but I hang back to pull out my phone. I should probably give Emerson space, but the man owes me an explanation. Plus, he’s gotta eat.
Me: Have you recharged enough to meet us for dinner?
No happy little dots pop up. I sigh and shake off the disappointment. I just had a killer day, and I’m about to hit the town with my friends in London for heaven’s sake! Who cares about Icy and his confusing storm of emotions.
Dinner is a blast. Thomas chose a trendy fish and chips place. The food is amazing, and the cocktails are even better. I try to pace myself, but Nicole begs me to keep up with her as she treats herself for the killer day we had today. Sadie even lets loose with us, a rare and happy sight.
After we’ve stuffed ourselves to the brink and drank ourselves to the point of uncontrolled laughing over nothing, Nicole suggests a nightcap. Thomas agrees, but Sadie, Tim, and Dean bow out for the evening. I insist we hit the bar in our hotel, feeling myself on the edge of falling asleep while standing. In the car on the way to the hotel, Tipsy Sloppy Sam takes over my phone.
Me: Okay, it’s been hours, Frosty
Your battery has got to be at like 90% now
At least
Meet for a nightcap?
I might fall asleep at the bar
So we’re going to the bar in our hotel.
That way, I’ll be close to my bed
Could you carry me upstairs?
Of course you could, you’re freaking JACKED
[Heart eyes emoji]
No happy text bubble. Ugh! We have two rounds of champagne at the bar, which I may or may not be dragging out in hopes that a certain someone will join us. “Yeah, time to get you back upstairs, lightweight.” Nicole snorts as she stands. I stand too and stumble a bit. Thomas steadies me, and I thank him. I think. We head out to the lobby, but instead of heading to the elevator, Nicole says something about the restroom and tells Thomas and me to park it on the couch.
“This is a soft, super couch, don’t you think?” I hear myself sigh.
“Is it?” Thomas rubs the fabric, clearly feeling a little gone himself.
“Ha!I said soft super! I meant soft super!” I am so funny. I start laughing and slide in the seat a little bit, and Thomas grabs me. As I right myself, I happen to turn my head and seehim, finally.
Mr. Handsome as Ever with His Shirt Unbuttoned at the Top—he came! But he’s scowling at me, fists clenched, and already back in the elevator. I realize Thomas has his arms around me, but I don’t even feel his touch. I do feel the piercing, angry gaze streaming from two almost clear eyes, straight to my very soul.
“No! Wait!” I say, but the doors close. I stand, suddenly almost completely sober. “Ugh! Shit!” I say under my breath. Thomas stands, concerned.
“Everything all right?”
“Yes, just . . . need to head up to my room.” I keep talking as I leave him. “It’s all catching up to me, you know? Time for bed for me. I’ll see you tomorrow. Let Nicole know I went on up, will you?”
“Of course, but let me walk you.”
“That’s all right, I’m fine. Thanks,” I call, rushing farther away before he can try to escort me all the way to my door. The thought of Thomas trying to say good night, with hugs or anything else, outside the suite door sends a chill down my back. I can only imagine how Emerson would open the door at the exact wrong moment and be even more pissed than he is now.
He is pissed, right? Angry eyes, flexed fists. Because he’s jealous. Got to be. Unless he’s just mad about the professional aspect? Or that I’m beyond the acceptable range of tipsy right now? The elevator crawls upward at a snail’s pace as I think.
