I bit my thumbnail as the elevator doors closed and rose to my floor. When the doors opened, I stepped off quickly and let out a big breath.
I let myself into my room and dropped down on the bed, lying back and gazing up at the ceiling. I mean, it would be insane to even consider spending the weekend with Carson, right? It was so far outside my neat, tidy life that the very thought of it was ridiculous… wasn't it? I lay there staring upwards, unseeing, and arguing with myself. Was I considering a weekend with Carson? Did I want that? I thought about it for a few minutes, picturing his smiling face. Okay, yes, I wanted it. There, I said it. I liked him, I had already admitted it. I liked Carson Stinger, Straight Male Performer. It was nuts. Bonkers. Cuckoo. But, just because I wanted something, didn't mean I should do it. I lay there frowning. It was just a weekend, though. How many other twenty-three year old girls meet a cute guy and spend a great weekend with them and then move on with their life? Him being in the business he was in made it that much more perfect–it wasn't like we could go anywhere beyond a weekend in Vegas. He knew that and I knew that. Maybe he was right–maybe it was within the realms of my "plan." Why couldn't he be Guy Number Two? Why not? Couldn't I be crazy and outrageous just once in my life? Just once?
As I lay there debating, I pictured the proverbial angel and devil whispering into either ear. How had this happened exactly? I never gave in to temptation, and here I was strongly leaning toward spending a couple days with Carson Stinger in his Vegas hotel room letting him teach me things? I brought one hand to my mouth, stifling a shocked giggle. I didn't even know myself anymore. Two hours in an elevator with him and I didn't even know who I was. Why did that thought not scare the living hell out of me? I sat up. Why was I sitting here with excited nerves shooting all over my body instead?
Then another thought occurred to me. Maybe he had changed his mind. Maybe that's why he disappeared so quickly. I sighed, flopping back down on my bed. Maybe this was all a moot point anyway. I had no idea what his room number was and I was sure they didn't give out that information at the front desk. I let out a big sigh. Maybe I'd give it a try though. And if I couldn't find him, I'd just have to resign myself to the long weekend of law presentations stretched out in front of me, just as I had planned.
**********
Carson
I closed the door to my hotel room and dropped down on my bed, laying back and bringing my hands up to scrub down my face. Shit. Watching her walk away had sucked. But she had never said she'd stay with me and she had been so damn excited to get off the elevator, I knew that her answer would be no. She hadn't even turned to say goodbye. I wasn't going to make it more uncomfortable for her and I wasn't going to beg. Women begged me, I didn't beg them. End of story.
Still, I had thought we connected in a way that I never connected with women. Especially women I found attractive. God, I was such a fucking idiot–you felt a connection, Carson. She didn't. And this time, double fucking whammy, she didn't even want to enjoy my best assets. Not even that.
There were plenty that did though. I wasn't going to lie around like a lovesick girl and write in my diary with my pink, glitter pen all night.
I lay on the bed for a while longer before I stood up and stripped off my clothes and walked to the shower. As I was stepping out, I thought I heard a small knock at my room door. I stilled and listened but didn't hear it again. I dried off and wrapped the towel around my hips, and as I was walking out to grab some clothes, I heard some scuffling sounds right outside my door. I walked over and flung the door open. Grace Hamilton was just turning away. She jerked around and let out a small screech as the door banged against the wall. I couldn't help the huge grin that I felt take over my face. I quickly went serious, though, and leaned my towel-clad hip against the doorframe, crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. She was going to have to tell me she wanted this.
She took a deep breath and I could see that she was battling herself. I remained quiet. Finally, after about a million years, she exhaled out all on one breath, "You asked if I'd spend the weekend with you." I didn't react, just kept watching her. She bit her lip, looking uncertain. "Yes," she finally said, "my answer is yes."
I grinned, feeling something soar inside. "That's all I needed to hear, Buttercup." I held the door open to let her cross through.
**********
Grace
My heart slowed down when he swung the door open and gestured for me to walk inside the hotel room that looked pretty much just like mine. I had been shaking when I knocked on his room door, but then when he didn't answer, the disappointment that filled me was stronger than the nerves. I had been turned from his door and was rooting in my purse for some paper and a pen, not even knowing what I'd write yet, when he swung the door open and stood there in nothing more than a towel around his narrow hips. I had swallowed hard in order not to start drooling all over the hallway rug. He was lean, but had defined muscles and his skin was smooth and golden. He stood there looking completely comfortable in his skin. And why shouldn't he? He was used to disrobing for other's eyes. I pushed that thought aside, though, and told him why I was there. The look of happiness that spread over his face made me relax a little.