Page 35 of Barre Fight
Well, he didn’t have to share a room with her, but if she was going to explore the neighborhood this morning, he was coming with her. That was the deal they’d struck, and she’d be holding him to it, whether he liked it or not. Whether the sight of that adjoining door made her cheeks feel hot again or not.
She gave a decisive little nod, then shot off a quick text to Em and one to her parents, letting them know she’d arrived safely, then headed to the bathroom to prepare for the day. By the time she’d dressed and given her hair a quick going over with the hairdryer—even if she couldn’t see beyond her little shaftway, she knew it was freezing outside—she hada reply from Em, who wanted to see which outfit she’d picked out for today. She posed in front of the mirror, holding the phone so that the camera would capture the snug high-waisted black pants, and the loose, slightly cropped charcoal grey sweater that had plenty of room for layering underneath. She’d added Em's shiny black boots and a pop of wintery plum-red lipstick, and she thought she looked pretty good for someone who was jet lagged out of her mind. Em agreed.
Em, 8:37am: It’s going to be a warm day in NYC because you look hottttt.
Ivy grinned, pulled on her coat, and sent another photo.
Ivy, 8:37am: The coat is perfect, I might not give it back.
Em, 8:38am: I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE, PAGE.
Ivy, 8:38am: I’ll move.
Em, 8:38am: And I’ll track you down. What’s on the docket today?
Ivy, 8:39am: A bagel, then walking over to Central Park, and a museum if I have time.
Ivy’s thumbs hovered over the screen as she wondered whether to tell Em about the adjoining rooms, and about how confusing last night had been. Justin had looked horrified at the idea of sharing a room with her—but then, just as she’d unlocked her door and put some much-needed space between them, he’d looked at her, gaze heated and intent. It was mystifying, but Em would help her make sense of it. Ivy started to type, except?—
Em, 8:40am: Packed schedule! OK, I need to sleep, I love you, have fun.
Ivy hastily erased the few words she’d managed to tap out.
Ivy, 8:40am: The coat and I love you too. Sleep well
Ivy tossed her bag into her purse and slung it over her shoulder, then glanced again at the adjoining door. Best to use the official, separate entrance to his room, she decided. Best that this door remain locked on both sides for the rest of this trip.
It took a full minute of knocking on the door to room 663 before she heard anything stir on the other side of it. When it did, she thought she heard a groan and the sound of heavy, stumbling footsteps. The door opened, and Justin’s bleary face appeared.
“Time is it?” he said, fighting a yawn and losing.
“It’s almost 9. Time to go,” Ivy said, trying not to notice how charmingly puffy his eyes were, or how appealing he looked with his hair disheveled by sleep.
“Go where?” Justin leaned heavily against the door frame, as if his body wasn’t awake enough yet to support his whole weight. He was wearing a faded old ANB T-shirt and a pair of loose grey tracksuit pants, and when he raised his arm to lean, a slice of bare, taut skin flashed up at Ivy, above a strip of white elastic that belonged to his briefs. She averted her eyes, doing her best not to remember what the rest of his stomach, chest, and shoulders looked like.
“Out,” she said, as crisply as she could manage, despite her suddenly dry mouth. “I’m going out exploring, and you’re coming with me.”
“But I barely slept,” he said weakly. “Took me ages to fall asleep.”
“We can get coffee on the way. Get dressed and let’s go.”
“I’m tired,” he objected, a sleepy little whine that should not have been attractive.
“We can get two coffees on the way. Get dressed, please. That’s the deal.”
He grumbled and pushed off the door, then wandered away, leaving the door ajar. Ivy hovered hesitantly outside in the hallway, wondering if he’d meant to close it, or left it open assuming she’d follow him inside. In the end she decided to stay where she was, and she turned her back to the door while she waited, trying not to listen to the sounds of Justin rifling through his suitcase and brushing his teeth. After a few minutes he reappeared, fully dressed but still a little puffy and rumpled.
“Alright, Kurt, let’s go find some coffee,” he said, closing the door behind him and slipping the key into his jeans pocket.
“What did you just call me?”
“Kurt. Von Trapp. He’s also incorrigible.”
Ivy raised her eyebrows in question.
“I couldn’t sleep last night andSound of Musicwas on. I flipped the channel right as Fraulein Maria was meeting the children.”
“I see,” Ivy said, and they started down the hallway. “I thought you didn’t like musicals?”
