Page 32 of A Little Too Late
We’ve reached the path that leads toward the employee buildings. “Don’t follow me,” Ava says. “You got upgraded, remember?”
“Yup. But it’s a nice night for a walk. This cold air is sobering me up.”
Ava regards me with a serious glare. Or she tries to. But a very drunk woman in a jacket that’s several sizes too large can only look so serious. “Walk somewhere else. I’m going home alone,” she says. “Thanks for the jacket.”
Then she marches off. Almost. As I watch, she stumbles again, this time going down hard on the cold concrete. “Damn it!” she shrieks. “My shoe!”
I look down and see that one of her high heels has snapped off.
“Uh-oh.”
She picks up the broken piece and flings it toward the hotel. “I was about to storm off! I was making a dramatic exit.”
“I saw. It was going super well,” I tell her. “Definitely got that vibe.”
She lets out a groan as I scoop her off the ground. And, yeah, the velvet dress is just as touchable as I’d imagined.
“What are youdoing?” she yelps.
“We tried this your way. Now we’re going to do it my way.”
“No!”
“Too late.” I toss her over my shoulder, and she lets out a shriek.
I’m deaf in one ear now. Still, I don’t slow down.
Once I get her into the hotel elevator, she stops shouting. Although she’s still complaining. She holds up the wall with two hands and tells me all the ways I’ve ruined her evening. “Damn you, Reed. It wasn’t supposed to go like this.”
“What wasn’t?” I press the button.
“I had all these big ideas about what would happen if you ever showed up here again.”
“Did you?” I’m carrying my jacket and what’s left of her shoes.
“You know it. I pictured you showing up when I was looking fiiiiine.” She tips her head back when she says it, and for the fiftieth time tonight, my eyes try to stray to her cleavage.
“Youdolook fine,” I point out. “Really fiiiiiine. But I didn’t think you’d want me to say so.”
“I don’t,” she snips. “But I wanted you to think it.”
“Understandable.” I bite back my smile as the elevators part on my floor. I get out and lead the way to the Vista Suite, and she follows like a baby duck. A drunk one.
“I wanted you to feelverybad,” she insists. “In this scenario I’m having a great hair day, and I’m dating a local hunk.”
There’s a sudden pressure in my chest as I scan the key card. “You’re dating a local hunk?”
“No,” she grumbles. “Not really. But Icouldbe.”
I exhale. “Of course. Now come in here and warm up. I’ll give you some clothes. And if you are dead set on going home, you can borrow my boots and lace them up tight.”
Ava walks into the suite and stops in the center of the living room. Then her eyes snap toward me as if she realizes we’re alone in my hotel room. “I am totally going home.”
“Okay,” I say heavily. “But is there a late-night bellhop we can call to drive you up the hill?” Otherwise, I’m about to change into all my warmest clothes and make a second attempt at walking her home. And neither one of us would enjoy it.
When I pictured this quick trip to Colorado, walking around with a sexy, angry, wasted Ava wasn’t anywhere in my plans.
“I could ask Ralph at the front desk,” she murmurs. “Not that he’s supposed to leave his post.Godthis room is nice.”
