Thomas & January

Page 16

But January answered anyway. “Because he loves us?”
I looked at her in disbelief. “Do you even know Jason?”
She thought for a moment. “You’re right. Something’s up.”
The valet came up and opened the door for January before coming around and taking the keys from me. He informed us in a very formal accent that he’d find out our room and have our bags brought up. “I’ll catch you when we leave, bro,” I said, letting him know I’d tip him all at once in the end and he nodded tightly.
Inside, the lobby had black-and-white marble floors. Our feet echoed off the walls and pushed back and forth repeatedly, a resounding hymn of clicks. The rest of the room was dark wood and crimson accents, save for the cream plaster ceiling and columns. We approached the Concierge and he greeted us cheerfully, asking our names.
“Thomas Eriksson and January MacLochlainn,” I told him. His brows lifted slightly at January, not enough to warrant a beat down but just enough to sting. Zap. I felt that simple burn of jealousy for about the hundredth time since being around this girl. If I had any chance of a normal relationship with her, I was going to have to check that quickly. Relationship? Where the hell did that come from?
“Yes, sir,” he said, clicking away at a computer system. “Ah, yes, I have you both on the third floor, is this acceptable? There are some fantastic views from that room.”
“Perfect,” January said, before doing a double take. “Wait. Room? Don’t you mean rooms?”
The man became flustered and peered down at his computer once more. January and I looked at one another, confused.
“No, I’m sorry. You only reserved the one room. Twin beds, though.”
“Jason,” I said under my breath. “I’m sorry,” I said a bit louder, “but we’re going to need two rooms.”
“I apologize, sir, but there is only the one vacancy.”
“It’s okay,” January said. “It has twin beds, you said?”
“Yes, madam.”
“It’s all right,” January offered, touching me lightly on the arm.
I nodded. “Are you sure?”
“Sure, let’s just get out there and listen to some music, Tom. I’m kind of dying to do our job right now.”
“All right,” I said, wishing I could kiss her in that moment. She made my heart feel lighter than it had in over a year. “Fine,” I told the man as he started to ready our keys. I turned back to January. “I’ll talk to Jason.”
“It’s fine,” she said, squeezing my forearm through my hoodie.
The concierge finalized everything, handing us our keys and letting us know our bags would be up shortly. He pointed us to the elevator and we got in, but when the doors closed and I pressed the button for the third floor, it felt like someone else took over my body.
I couldn’t have stopped myself if I’d tried, I grabbed January briskly and pushed her against the side of the elevator, cupping the back of her head so I wouldn’t hurt her. She looked surprised but not at all unwilling, her mouth gaped slightly and held a small grin at the corners. I eyed her fiercely before physically turning her head and moving to her beautiful neck. I breathed her beguiling scent deep within my chest. I righted her face and drank her in before closing my eyes and pressing my lips gently to hers. It was everything in me to keep it soft, my body had other ideas, rougher ideas, and wanted so badly to kiss her harshly to release all the pent up feeling I’d been harboring for the fascinating female since that night in Austin.
“I’m into you,” I told her as I broke free.
“Are you,” she whispered as a statement rather than a question.
“That’s a lie,” I amended.
Her breaths puffed gently as her eyes wandered my face. “A lie.”
“Yes,” I said, running my fingers along her neck and throat, resting my palm over her heart, feeling it race for me.
“I’m obsessed with you.”
“Ob-obsessed,” she said, tripping on the word.
“Am I scaring you?” I asked, removing my hand from her chest and bringing it back to her throat.
The elevator door dinged, alerting us to our floor and we both stepped out without another word spoken. I opened the door with the electronic key and let her in first. When the door closed, I held fast to her arm and whipped her back to me, pinning her once again against the door. The only light in the room was a soft lamp in the corner.
“No,” she said.
“No, what?”
“No, you’re not scaring me.”
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” I acknowledged to her as well as myself. My stare raked her body from her feet to the top of her head. “Want to hear something damaged?”
“Always.”
“I dream about you.”
“Dream.”
“Yes, all the time. Every night. Every single night, January.”
“About what?”
“It wouldn’t be...prudent for me to say,” I admitted, not believing I admitted to it.
She giggled timidly and I could feel her face and neck pitch to a feverish degree. “Stop,” I spoke into her hair.
“I can’t help it,” she whimpered, sending me in every different direction possible.
“Then be prepared.”
“For what?”
“For this,” I said, pressing my body severely into hers.
She groaned and I almost let go of all self-control at that captivating sound. Her long legs climbed up mine and I very nearly tossed her to one of the impossibly small twin beds. Her fingers combed through my hair and pulled slightly at the ends, bringing the kiss deeper.
“Tom,” she breathed into my mouth.
“Hmm?” I asked, moving to her jaw and throat.
“The door, Tom.” She said at the knocking behind her.
“What?” I asked, pulling away, supremely pissed that we had luggage that even needed bringing to us.
I let her incredible body slide down mine until her feet hit the floor. I made sure she held up before flipping on the light, running my hands through my hair and taking a deep breath. I opened the door and a bellhop brought our duffels in, laying them against the wall near the television.
I gave him a few pounds, thanked him and he left.
“Whoa,” she said, the backs of her hands at her cheeks.
“I know, I shouldn’t have let it get that far. I’m sorry.”
“Well that too,” she said, her face bright red. My lids became hooded and she brought her hand to her throat. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I meant ‘Whoa, this room.’ It’s like the British Navy threw up in here!”
I looked around and finally saw what she did. “Cripes! You’re right. I’m blind!”
“Gah! All bright blue and gold! What were they thinking?” She laughed and I couldn’t help but join her.
“It is ridiculous.”
I glimpsed at the nightstand and read the time. “Crap!”
“What?”
“It’s nine-fifteen.”
“No!”
“Listen,” I said, “don’t forget this, okay? I need you to remember that kiss. I want you to know that I do still very much want you.”
 Her face bloomed in answer.
“Just give me a moment,” she said. “I’ll be ready in fifteen. You can get ready in here, if you want?” I nodded. “I’ll, uh, knock on the inside of the bathroom door when I’m ready to make sure you’re dressed.”
I heard water running for a moment and sounds of cloth hitting the sink and floor, including her shoes. I placed my hand on the door and closed my eyes, praying that God gave me the patience to sleep in the same room with that magnificent creature.
I was going to kill Jason.
I unpacked everything in the duffel in the set of drawers nearest the bed at the window. I knew we were only going to be there a day, but if you’ve ever had to live out of a duffel, you know it’s harder than living out of a suitcase. If you don’t keep everything organized and folded, it can take you hours to make it right again.
 I threw on a pair of jeans and thermal under yet another black t-shirt before shrugging on my hoodie. I stood in front of a mirror and ran my hands through my hair. Done. I walked to the closet near the bathroom and removed the provided laundry bag, throwing all my stuff from that day and the day before inside.
I knocked on the bathroom door. A tiny shriek came from inside, making me laugh. “I’m not decent!” she said.
“Oh well, then it’s okay for me to come in then.”
“No! Not decent! Not decent!” I was quiet for a minute. “You’re kidding me, aren’t you?”
I didn’t answer, just laughed. “January, here’s the laundry bag for all your stuff. I’ll set it right outside the door. We’ll want to have our things laundered tomorrow since we’ll be out of here tomorrow evening.”
Chapter Seven
At Least I'm Not as Sad
Thomas
January emerged fifteen minutes later, looking for all the world like sex on heels and I tried desperately to pretend she didn’t. We both moved in front of the sink and brushed our teeth together, trying not to laugh in the mirror and get toothpaste down our fronts, but that didn’t really work out too well for me.
A fresh t-shirt later, and we were out the door. January, a walking, ticking time bomb and I, the detonator. It was only a matter of time before one of two things happened. Either some idiot was going to push me over the line, or she was. I imagined both wouldn’t exactly be ideal. Though, I did have a preference.
“You know what you’re doing,” I told her as we settled into the scene of the only crime we’d actually committed that night. Yeah, I did that.
“Whatever do you mean?” She feigned surprise, her hand flew to her chest.
“You know what you look like. You’d have to be an idiot not to and you, January MacLochlainn, are not an idiot.”
“What?” She teased, one brow raised. “Do you plan those little ditties out before hand, or was that off the cuff?”
“I apologize, was that not clever enough for you?”
“It was beneath you, Eriksson, beneath you.”
“I know something else I’d like beneath me,” I joked.
She laughed loudly, her laugh the equivalent of a ringing bell, before checking herself. “See? You just killed it. It’s literally dead, floating upside down and bloated. It’s that dead.”
“What a visual. You’re the queen of defusing sexual tension.”
She made a tiny bow, raising the hem of her skirt a little and sending me very near that edge I warned you about. “Thank you. Thank you,” she said, righting herself. “Don’t try this at home, folks. I’m a professional.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“Thomas Eriksson! You’ve cut me to the core! I don’t believe I can go on,” she said with an exaggerated Southern accent. She leaned her body against mine and went limp. I gladly held her up and against me. “Tell Mama I love her. Tell July I bequeath to her my collection of shells from around the world, and the snow globes can go to August.” She died in my arms and then peeked up at me with one eye open as the doors slid wide to a packed lobby.