But before Declan can answer, Maeve shakes her head. “Oh no, dearie, haven’t you heard? There’s a nor’easter brewin’ fast. And don’t you know, it’s grounded all the planes until further notice.”
I look to Declan for the translation, and he gives me an apologetic grimace. “Big winter storm came in right after we landed. Airport’s been shut down, which means we’re stuck here until further notice.”
Stuck here….?
I look around at the hotel guests, dread rolling both my chest and stomach. “For how long?”
“Last one this bad had the doors closed for a good couple of Sundays,” Maeve answers.
This time Declan doesn’t need me to look to him for the translation. “At least two or three days. Maybe up to a week.”
My entire body freezes at the news. Staying at this hotel is my worst nightmare.
And now that nightmare has come true.
Oh no! Can Hayato survive the storm?
Outside and inside his chest?
Who’s Satomi?
And what secret is Hayato hiding?
See you for the next episode of
TWELVE MONTHS OF KRISTAL!
WOULDN’T IT BE NICE
Episode 4
18
Wouldn’t It Be Nice
KRISTAL
The fourth day of Christmas
I come awake to the Apple Watch I won in last Christmas’s elf round-robin vibrating on my wrist. I reach over to turn it off with a sleepy sigh, knowing there’s no way I would have woken up on my own without it. After years of trying to get in drawing time before work, I’m a natural early riser. But last night was…
Intense…hot…confusing. All of the above. So, in other words, what I’ve come to expect from my mysterious Japanese billionaire.
I look over at Hayato, and a longing Beach Boys tune unfurls inside my head at the sight of him sleeping. Wouldn’t it be nice? I think as I watch his defined chest rise and fall. His soft black hair hangs over his eyes in a gentle sweep that makes my fingers itch to push it back.
But I don’t. He appears so peaceful in this state. It’s hard to believe that this person and the sex-crazed animal who kept me up half the night are one and the same.
Is this the real him? Is that what he’s been hiding all along under his polite, distant mask? A soft and gentle spirit that would come out if I—
I brutally cut myself off before I can finish that thought. I’ve seen enough of my elf cousins come back to the workshop on the twelfth day of Christmas, infatuated with some human—only to discover the next Christmas that he or she has moved on.
An image of my mom in her last dying days, floats across my mind. Coughing and still defending my father.
“You can’t blame him. He’s a man. Men can’t wait. They just don’t know how to keep on loving when the going gets tough. The truth is I should never have fallen in love with him. Should’ve kept you and kept on walking. My good sense knew how he was from the start, but my heart wouldn’t listen.”
Wouldn’t listen.
Apparently, I’d inherited more than my stubbornly curvy build from my mom. My heart continues to play Beach Boy songs, even though Hayato has made it more than clear what this is about for him. Just sex. Amazing, mind-blowing, oh-my-gosh, how many times can one elf come before passing out sex. But just sex, nonetheless.
I’m not going to do it, I decide. I’m not going to repeat my mother’s mistakes. That means I’ve got to stay clear-headed. Cool. Be cool, I tell myself over the Beach Boys song, trying to spin inside my heart.
Thus begins a second morning of resisting. Instead of pushing the hair out of his eyes, I push back the covers and quietly slip out of bed. And instead of kissing Hayato awake, I remind myself it’s only sex, and I’m only his escort for the next ten days, as I head to the bathroom.
A literal bathroom. The last hotel had only offered a sleek all-glass shower, but this one hosts an old-fashioned clawfoot tub, which has been modified to also serve as a shower. Normally I would love to take a bath. Maybe even read one of the People magazines Hayato gifted me.
But indulging myself feels a little too dangerous this morning. Remembering how he coldly commanded me to take a shower after I kissed him on the plane, I yank close the curtain and twist the antique brass knobs on the wall.
The shower creaks and bangs when I turn it on, but the water comes out in a lukewarm, too forceful spray. Not quite my fairy rain shower back in the workshop, but hey, how boring would this world be if every bathroom was interior designed by fae?
In any case, the shower clears my mind and helps me reset my resolve. You’re not here to fall in True Love, I remind myself as I dry off with a simple white towel and put on the clothes I pulled out of my suitcase.