I sat up with a yawn, blinking away the bleariness as I scanned the room. His shirt, hanging over the big screen television, was the only article of clothing that made it into the bedroom. One of the lamps had been overturned. Otherwise the room looked normal. I wasn’t so sure about the rest of the suite. We’d managed to get as far as the couch in the front room of the suite before we’d continued. After the floor, and the hot tub, we’d finally ended up in the bed in the early morning.
I pulled the thick white comforter up with a shiver as the air conditioner clicked on and began blasting a cool breeze through the vents. I chewed the inside of my cheek. I could get up and go look for him, but that meant I would have to leave the nice warm bed and put some sort of clothes on. The growl of my stomach echoed through the room, making the final decision.
With a sigh, I threw off the covers, hopped out of bed, and pulled on Mercer’s shirt, wrapping it around me. Mercer stood in the living room with his back to me and his cell phone at this ear.
“I understand,” he said in a somber voice. “This is a tragedy. I understand how all of your students are suffering.”
I plopped down on the couch and brought my knees up to my chest. He smiled and winked at me as he titled his head closer to the phone. The collar of his shirt brushed against my nose, and I inhaled his scent. Underneath the patoulli lay something subtle. Olive trees?
“I don’t think we have to go that far. I think the project can be a positive way to help them cope.” He glanced in my direction again. “Can we discuss this further, say over lunch?”
He laughed at the phone. “I will see you then.”
He pocketed his phone, sat beside me, and pulled me into his arms, nuzzling the nape of my neck. I shuddered as his hot breath blew across my skin and a heat began to build up between my legs. I rested my head on his shoulder and lay my hands over his.
“Problems?” I tried to keep my voice level.
“The college is considering canceling the program,” he said.
I sat up and turn to look at him with my eyes wide. “But … that would screw all our credits.”
He pulled me back to him. “I’ll handle it.”
He buried his face in my hair and breathed deeply. I closed my eyes, allowing my muscles to relax. In this moment, we were the only two that existed on this Earth. For the first time since I’d seen my aunt, the tension in between my shoulders eased. I’d soon have to return to my problems, but in Mercer’s arms, they seemed so far away.
The knock on the door ended our moment of peace. Mercer gently pushed me away and headed to the door.
“This would be breakfast,” he said. “You’re probably hungry.”
My growling stomach answered him, and I grinned apologetically. He swung the door open and allowed the cart to be pushed in. Mercer thanked the server and palmed a bill in his hand before shutting the door. I rushed the cart and pulled off the cover from the first plate I could reach. Steam rose up with the sweet smell of maple. Sinful little triangles of fried bread lay in stacks of three with a cup of syrup between them.
“I love French toast,” I said
“At this point, you look like you’ll love anything.” He chuckled.
I snatched up the plate along with a fork and headed back to the couch. I was halfway through the toast before the gnawing in my stomach abated. I blinked and looked up to find Mercer beside me with a cup of coffee in hand and a plate of sausage and eggs on the table beside him. He watched me with a raise eyebrow and slight smile on his face. I wiped my mouth with a napkin.
“Sorry,” I said. “I don’t think I ate much yesterday.” Or at all.
“No, go ahead.” He waved a hand at me. “I appreciate a woman with an appetite.”
I took another bite and relished the warm rich taste that filled my mouth. It didn’t take long for me to empty the plate, and I leaned back on the couch, rubbing my stomach and licking the last of the sticky drops of syrup from my lips. Mercer’s set his fork on his plate of mostly eaten food and drained his coffee cup.
“You seem in a better mood from last night,” Mercer said.
“Oh?”
He chuckled. “Don’t get me wrong. Last night was hot, but you seemed almost frantic. Like you were trying to forget.”
I looked down at my hands as they twisted in my lap. “Yesterday was really rough.”
He placed a hand over my frantic ones and squeezed gently. “I’m sorry about James.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “It’s my fault. I should have seen the signs.”
“How could you have seen that? I didn’t think you two were that close.”
“Not like that,” I whispered. “Something was influencing him. You felt it, too. On the roof.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. Then his body relaxed and he chuckled. “I didn’t take you as someone who believed in the supernatural.”
“A lot in this world hasn’t been explained by science,” I said. “At least not yet.”
“Humanity doesn’t have the right tools,” he said. “As for James, what could you have done?”
“I don’t know. Paid more attention, I guess.” I rubbed the bandage covering my tattoo. “Yesterday was just a bad day.”
He squeezed my hand. “Let check on the burn. I had room service bring up some new bandages.”
“They do that?”
“If you’re paying enough.”