Page 59 of Holiday Romance
“Gabriela—”
“I mean, we’re on such a roll now, we might as well keep going. He’s not seeing anyone, is he?”
“No,” I say reluctantly. “He was, but they broke up during the summer.”
“And you haven’t been with anyone seriously since Brandon.”
“No.”
“So I say, why not explore?”
“Because what happens if he kisses me again and I hate it?” I ask. “And then it’s ruined. A perfectly good friendship gone just like that.”
“What if that doesn’t happen and instead the kiss leads to mind-blowing sex and becomes the best decision you ever made? I think you need to talk to him seriously about this. Maybe he’s freaking out too.”
“He doesn’t look like he’s freaking out,” I grumble, plucking at a loose thread on the bedspread. “He’s acting like the whole thing is funny. Like it’s a joke.”
“Molly, I don’t know him, but I guarantee you no one would think kissing you is a joke.” Her voice hardens. “Infact, if he says evenonething to make you feel—”
“Alright,” I cut her off. “Thank you, babe.”
“You’re a catch, you hear me?”
“I do,” I say dryly, but I smile. “But right now, I think I actually need to have that nap. Jet lag is not fun.”
“Okay, but if you have any more problems aboutanythingat all—”
“I will come to you. I will confide.”
“That’s my girl.”
We say our goodbyes and I hang up. I do nap, but it only makes me feel worse and I wake forty minutes later with a dry mouth, a growling stomach, and the beginnings of a headache. With that added grossness on top of my plane grossness, I decide to check out the shower for the first time. There’s a neatly folded towel on the vanity so I grab that and the toiletries left by the sink and hope to God there’s hot water. There is.
And it isblissful.
The water pressure is what I imagine those shampoo commercial waterfalls must feel like and I stay there for way too long. I even do a deep conditioner but have no choice other than to let my hair dry naturally seeing as I can’t find a hairdryer in the room. Idofind a handheld clothes steamer though, which I immediately put to use unwrinkling everything I bought in Paris and having way too much fun doing it.
I’m working on the pillowcase just for kicks when there’s a knock on the door and I open it to find Andrew on the other side, dressed like he’s about to head out.
“What are you doing?” I ask, nodding at his coat.
“What areyoudoing?” he counters. He stares at my steamer like it’s a space gun from a cheap sci-fi movie.
“I found it under the bed. Just because we’re traveling doesn’t mean we have to show up all wrinkly. If you ask nicely, I’ll steam your stuff too.”
He slumps against the doorframe. “I’m trying desperately to think of a way to twist that into an innuendo.”
“And you’ve got nothing?”
“I’ve had a long day. And to answer your question, I’m going out and so are you. Oliver suggested we go soak up the atmosphere.”
“Now?”
He pauses at the disbelief in my voice. “You don’t want to see London at Christmas?”
“You mean go see an already overcrowded city at one of the busiest times of the year? No. It will be full of tourists.”
“Wearetourists.” He grins as I unplug the steamer. “It’s just for an hour.”
