Page 19 of The Beat of My Heart
“Yes, sir. Here you go.”
I don’t even look at it, just hand him a credit card. My mind is already making a list of ways to get Angel to talk to me again.
Stepping off the elevator, I swear I can smell her. I don’t know if her scent is stuck to me or if she leaves a trail wherever she goes, but the knowledge that she is on this floor has me walking at a snail's pace through the hall. I’m hoping to hear her, so I pause for a second at each door.When did you turn into such a fucking stalker?
My shoulders sag as I get to my room at the end of the hallway. I didn’t find which room was hers, and it upsets me. Sliding my key into the door, I hear her, and my entire body freezes.No fucking way.Looking to my left, I pause. Is it possible she is in the room next to mine or am I hallucinating?
“Can you believe that shit? Who the hell does that? Motherfucker! Seriously! He got me all worked up, then sent me on my way like a toddler. I bet he has a small pecker, anyway. Oh, who am I kidding? I totally felt it when we were dancing. That fucking thing would have broken me for sure. GAH! That’s it, I hate him. Yup, he is off my list. I don’t care if I see him again or not. My mission is on. Tomorrow, I’m having a one-night stand with someone, anyone. But not him. Nope, not Charlie. He is a douche canoe. I hope he has to sit through all my presentations and watch as I fucking kill it, then I’ll walk right by and ignore him. Yup, that’s my plan…”
She is on a roll, so I let myself into my room, knowing there is a door connecting our suites. Grabbing a glass and the bottle I bought at the bar, I pull up a chair to sit at the entrance to listen. I know it’s wrong, but I want to know everything I can about this girl, and I don’t have much time. We will both leave Boston at the end of the week and go our separate ways because we have to. I need this week with her, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make it perfect.
Realizing she said she was presenting, I’m tempted to pull up the list they gave me when I checked in, but don’t. I kind of like the game we have going on. No one can get hurt this way. It seems like a win-win. I know I’m lying to myself, but I do it anyway. I told her if things were different, I wouldn’t let her go; the truth in that statement scares the living shit out of me.
Chapter 8
-The Man, Taylor Swift
Julia
Beep*Beep*Beep*
“Nooooo,” I moan. I hate mornings.
*Beep*Beep*Beep*
“What the fuck?” I can’t help but spew when I realize it isn’t even my alarm going off. Rolling over, I grab my phone. 4:45 am. “Who the hell gets up this early?” I have forty-five minutes before my own alarm goes off, so I try to go back to sleep.
*Click*
I hear my neighbor leave and sigh in frustration. Kicking at the crisp white sheets tangled around my legs, I attempt to free myself from their confines. Sitting up in bed, knowing I am not getting back to sleep now, I reach for the room service menu.
“I freaking love room service.” Picking up the phone, I place my order.
“Hi, can I please have an omelet with sausage and fresh tomatoes, a blueberry pancake, and the biggest pot of black coffee you can find?” Thinking I should probably eat some fruit, I add, “Also, some fresh berries or something?” I order them knowing they will sit in their bowl untouched, but my mom would be proud of me for trying.
“Today is a big day, Jules. Big, big day!” I give myself a pep talk on the way to the shower and think of the presentation I’ll be giving in a few short hours. Reaching inside the shower stall, I’m interrupted by a knock at the door, which startles me. I know it can’t be room-service yet, so I grab the big fluffy robe that is at least twice as big as I am and walk to the door.
Checking the peephole, I don’t see anyone, so I crack the door open slightly and stick my head out, looking left, then right. No one is there. Assholes. I’m about to close the door when something catches my eye on the floor.
“What the hell?” Sitting at my feet is a giant, and I mean, probably the biggest Starbucks coffee cup I have ever seen in my life. Thinking it is intended for someone else, I’m about to close the door when a note attached to the cup catches my eye, “Angel.”
Stomping my foot, I growl. “Alright, Charlie. Are you stalking me now? Seriously, get out of here. I know you are here somewhere and let me just tell you something. I will not play games with you. I’ve got my own shit to deal with today, so you can take your coffee and shove it right up your hot as fuck ass. I ordered my own coffee, and the last thing I need is a man-child fucking with me.”
Satisfied, I slam my door. Well, I try to anyway. Freaking hotel doors and their suspension. I press my door with all my weight, and it still only closes with a soft click. “Humph. That’ll teach him.”
Wiping off my hands like I just took out the trash, I go to take my shower.
*Knock*Knock*
“Room-service,” I hear someone call. Luckily, I just finished my shower. Rushing to the door, I swing it open.
“Thanks so much, I’m starving,” I tell the delivery man. Grabbing my wallet, I pull out a five-dollar bill and hand it to him.
“Have a wonderful day, miss.”
“Thank you, you too,” I reply, already plopping down on my bed to eat.
Pulling out my phone, I pull up my kick-ass playlist and am immediately rewarded by Pink’sRaise Your Glass. Stuffing my face with an enormous bite of pancake, I hop up and go to my closet. “I mean, can you really sit still when Pink is blasting? I think not. Okay, what are we going to wear today?”
