The moment I hit Send, panic sets in. What the hell am I doing? I just invited him to my hotel room. Here. With me. Alone. What the hell is he going to think? Groaning, I slam my MacBook shut and stretch back out on the sofa. I can’t believe I just did that. I’m about five seconds away from calling reception and asking for a different room when I force myself to calm down.
He’s not going to turn up at my door, late on a weekday evening, without responding first, because who would do that? Oh, I don’t know, the same kind of person who answers ads like this on Craigslist? Or the kind of person who hangs out at rivers in the middle of the night? I cringe, bury myself deeper into the comfort of the cushions, and close my eyes.
I wake abruptly, shivering, my body ice cold. With my eyes still adjusting, it takes a second for me to realise that I’m not at home. The hotel. Fumbling next to me on the couch for the remote, I switch off the air conditioning and throw a jacket over my arms. That’s better. I relax, until I remember the last thing I did before I fell asleep.
Oh, shit.
I fumble for my laptop. I can’t open it to my email fast enough. As the screen refreshes, I see his reply sitting there, begging to be read. My mouth feels numb as I try to swallow. Why did I send that second email? I click on the reply, and four little words send me into a panic.
I’m on my way.
Frantically, I scan the email for the time. He sent it twenty minutes ago.
I curse again, and then again when I look around me. The place is a mess. If there is one thing I don’t do well, it’s travel tidy. I can’t have him in here—although maybe he should know what he’s getting himself into. Not that we will be sharing a room. I blush at the thought of sharing anything with him. Quickly, I call reception and request they call me when he arrives. I know for a fact the bar of the hotel is open till two a.m., so I’ll take him there.
“Certainly, ma’am.” The receptionist responds to my request as if he’s been asked it a million times before. I bet he’s seen it all. He probably thinks I’m an escort waiting on a client.
I hunt through my overnight bag for a clean outfit, secretly thankful that I packed a dress with at least a little bit of sex appeal. I was adamant about not prettying myself up too much for these interviews, because the last thing I needed was the pressure of physical attraction on this trip. And now I’ve all but chosen possibly the sexiest guy I’ve ever seen. If I wasn’t so nervous I’d be laughing at the irony.
As I wait for the phone to ring, I run my brush through my hair. A few strands break away, enough to make my stomach turn as I pry them away from the brush. I was lucky not to lose my hair during chemo, but the fear that I’d wake up one day and find it all gone never went away.
There. That’s as good as it’s going to get. I smile, trying to calm myself, but it’s no use. I’m a wreck. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I’ve met with so many people this week that any hesitations about what I’m doing should be long gone. But without even having met Cade yet, I know he’s different because of that morning.
Calli would kill me if she knew I was doing this without her.
On one hand, I’m regretting not letting her be here, if only to stop me from saying something stupid, but I know I need to do this on my own. That, and I can’t risk her finding out what happened. Besides, if I can’t get through a drink with the guy, how am I going to handle two months?
Chapter Six
Cade
“Hi, uh, I’m meeting someone in room 212? Erin Camden?”
The night porter nods and points behind me. “She asked that you meet her in the bar. I will call and let her know you’re here.”
“Right.” I nod.
He raises his eyebrows at the medium Coke and tightly wrapped cheeseburger I’m clutching in my hand.
“Private joke,” I mutter. It seemed funnier on the drive over. I saunter over to the bar, taking a table near the back, and order myself a drink.
I’m glad that she had the smarts not to just let me into her room. The last thing I need is to worry about her doing something stupid while we’re in the middle of nowhere with each other. I’m nervous, not only because there is a lot riding on this, but also because the last time I saw this girl she ditched me after saving her life.
“Thanks,” I mutter as the barman places a whiskey in front of me.
I look up just as she enters the room. Holy shit. Last time I saw her she looked like a mess, but she was still beautiful. I remember seeing her on that riverbank, wondering what could be so bad that she’d be contemplating suicide. Turns out she’s the very reason you shouldn’t judge anyone without knowing their story. Who knows what I’d be feeling if I were in her situation?
A smile creeps across my mouth as I watch her, because tonight, she’s perfect. The pale blue dress she wears clings to her lean body, dropping just below the knee. She spots me and smiles shyly.
“Hey,” she says when she reaches me. Her eyes fall on the Coke and cheeseburger and she laughs, her eyes dancing. “I guess I owe you an explanation.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” I answer honestly. I know better than anyone that things aren’t always as they seem. Besides, I can tell she’s embarrassed about what happened.
“Not even the three dollars and fifty cents that would’ve cost you?” she asks, her voice light. She slips into the chair opposite me, resting her arms on the tabletop.
“Times two, since I had to buy it twice.” I grin. “That’s why I’m here, to collect my seven dollars.”
“Ah, I didn’t ask for it the second time,” she replies. Her eyes twinkle as she holds my gaze, her body language relaxing.