Connected (Connections #1)

Connected (Connections #1) Page 12

Deciding to just let fate take its course, I take a shower, brush my teeth, fix my face, spritz on some body spray, and put on my too big black bra and panties, before slipping on my dress and shoes. I look in the mirror again and flip my hair over to brush it so that my now ashen blonde hair falls in a cascading mess down my back, and then I give myself a self-assuring smile.

As I look away from the bathroom mirror, I turn back and decide I probably shouldn’t wear my engagement ring when I go out with another man. It just doesn’t feel right. I decide that just for tonight, I should remove my necklace. As I do, visions of Ben slipping it on my finger come to mind, and I try to suppress them, but that was a happy time for me, and I actually smile at the memory.

It’s only once I have actually removed the necklace and kiss my engagement ring that sadness instantly fills my heart. I swallow hard to hold back my emotion. I almost feel like I should be begging his forgiveness for my thoughts, my wants, and my needs. As I continue to look at the ring, a constant reminder of Ben, I know I will never forget him, but I have to put him away just for now. So I kiss my ring one more time and turn to lock it in the safe, saying a soft I will always love you.

While gathering my things, I hear a faint knock on the door. I open it without even looking to see who it is. He’s standing there, leaning against the doorframe with his head down and a beautiful grin on his face. I can’t help myself and I scan his long lean body just for a quick look. He’s tall, lean, slightly muscular like a swimmer, and has crazy light-brown hair with copper here and there. He’s insanely attractive. When my eyes meet his, he simply undoes me, completely mesmerizing me.

For the first time today, I feel the same electric pull that I felt between us that night. I also finally realize what the something else was that I couldn’t figure out back then; what was driving me to him so long ago. It is awareness; not only am I completely aware of him, but he’s also completely aware of me.

Still standing in the doorway, I catch him studying the length of my body, and then he leans in toward me. Unable to control myself, my body unconsciously sways closer to his, and a small noise escapes my throat. I hear him inhale in response. We are so close, I think he’s going to kiss me, but instead he rests his forehead on mine and I can feel his breath on my jaw. Our foreheads remain connected for a few short seconds before he glides his nose over my cheek. Exhaling a heavy breath as his mouth lightly grazes my ear, he whispers, “You look beautiful, perfect really.”

His sexy moves and his closeness catch me off guard. My stomach is a mix of butterflies and flips. I didn’t expect his contact nor did I expect his kind words; words that I just doubted about myself. Biting my bottom lip and swallowing hard, I resist the urge to pull him over to my bed and just be done with the semantics. Instead I decide to take a step back and wrap my arms around myself to stop my uncontrollable quivering.

With his gleaming green eyes gazing at me so intensely, I manage to find my voice and say in an octave or two off, “Thank you kind sir, did I take too long?”

Before he can comment, his phone chimes, but he ignores it. The distraction is fine with me because it keeps him from noticing my reaction to his touch. He continues to look at me with that mesmerizing look of total awareness. I almost feel like he’s deciding if he wants to eat me for dinner, which would suit me just fine.

Stepping back, he braces his arms on both sides of the doorframe and shakes his head. “No, I just wanted to make sure your bags were delivered.”

I smile warmly at this thoughtfulness and inhale his intoxicating scent. “Yes they were, thank you very much.”

Stepping under his arms and into the hallway, I turn to glance at him as the door closes. “I’m ready.”

I grin when I hear that Hmmm… sound from him again. I have figured out that he makes that sound either when I do something that is unexpected or when he finds something I said or did funny.

He catches up with me, and once again, takes my hand and leads me to the elevator. Exiting the building, we walk to his car that is still waiting for us out front.

Driving out of the parking lot, he pulls his car over to the side of the road and cocks his head toward me. “Did I tell you how amazing you look?” His voice is soft with a rough whispering, raspy tone.

Losing myself in his green eyes, I answer in complete honesty. “Yes actually, you did, but I don’t mind hearing it from you again.”

With his eyes locked on mine, he nods his head. “Just wanted to make sure you knew.” Grinning delightfully, he turns back to his driver position and pulls out of the hotel parking lot. “Mind if I change before we head out?”

He pauses a second to look at me, and when he sees me shake my head, he continues, not waiting for a verbal response. “You can grab a drink while I take a quick shower.”

Then thumbing to the back seat where his guitar is, he says, “I have to drop my guitar off anyway, I had a photo shoot before our meeting and they wanted pictures of me with her.”

I giggle, despite myself. Her? He calls his guitar her?

“What?” he asks in mock offense.

Still giggling, I ask, “Does your girl have a name?”

Chuckling back at me, he answers, “Stella, her name is Stella, and don’t make fun. She’s the only girl I have ever really counted on.”

Having stopped my giggling and replaced it with appreciation, I say, “I’m not making fun, I actually get it. I feel the same way about my camera.” And for good measure, I laugh a little and say, “Maybe I should name him.”

The humor having entered back into our conversation, he chuckles along. “Him?”

“Him, her, I don’t know. I’ve never given it that much thought, but having a girl sleep in my room with me every night isn’t my thing.” I say this knowing it will elicit a reaction.

He’s full out chuckling now. “Hmmm . . . you should see the picture I have in my head right now, no pun intended.”

Pouting my lips, I raise my eyes in an upward glance, not quite rolling them. “I’d rather not.”

“That look was hot,” he says after making a slight groaning noise.

We stop at a red light and my giggle fest is over. As I glance over at him and he’s looking at me, I wonder if he can see into the future because the look he’s giving me tells me he sees what I see.

His phone chimes again from his pocket, and he continues to ignore it. He slowly reaches over, grabs a strand of my hair, and very slowly tucks it behind my ear, sending shivers down my spine. Circling his index finger around my ear, he lightly tugs on my lobe, sparking a heat within my body that I have only felt once before. My body starts to quiver again. I look up to meet his now hooded eyes and decide to just come out and ask him if he remembers me because his movements and gestures are the same as they were that night so long ago. Before the words can come out, horns start honking and blowing. The light has turned green and I close my mouth.

As we enter the Palms Place Hotel and Spa driveway, he continues to tell me about his new album, but I’m having a really hard time concentrating on anything other than his physical being.

He stops the car and peers over at me. “Dahlia, did you hear me?”

Blinking at him, I shake my head. “Sorry, should I be taking notes?” I have no idea what he just said, and the funny thing is I really am interested in his new album and not only for work purposes.

Frowning at me, he nods his head. “Yeah, this is really important stuff.” Then grinning mischievously, he counters with, “I asked if you have ever stayed here before?”

My door opens and the valet is standing there. River meets me on the sidewalk and continues his teasing. “So did you get that down?”

I pout my lips and roll my eyes. “No I have never stayed here.” I give him a smirk and add, “Smartass,” just for fun. With a little more boldness than I intend, I say, “And don’t say it.”

Cocking his head to one side he asks questioningly, “Say what?”

“That my look was hot.”

“First of all, what makes you think I was going to say that? And secondly, it was!”

A greeting from the doorman helps distract him. I’m grateful as he nods his head and says, “Hi,” especially since I knew what he was going to say because he said the very same thing to me not only today but also the night that we met.

With our hands connected, we walk through the lobby of the hotel. The lobby is soothing and quiet in contrast to most Las Vegas hotel lobbies with their bright lights and dinging slot machines. The peaceful sound of water surrounds us, and the gleam of the floor is almost blinding. Everything about this place is tranquil.

As we wait for the elevator, I realize he’s still holding my hand, and we’re no longer in transit. We are standing still, holding hands as he looks at me with his powerful green eyes and rubs circles on the top of my hand with his thumb.

He’s explaining that he likes staying here because it is close to everything, but quiet, not all of the hustle and bustle of casino hotels. I can see what he means. This place is like nowhere I have ever been. I feel like I’m in another time and another place. The more I stare into his eyes the more I feel I am.

Dropping my hand as we approach the elevator, he reaches for his wallet and takes out his room key. Upon entering the elevator, he puts his room key in the key slot and pushes the button for Penthouse A. I’m relieved that he doesn’t have a single room like mine, because what am I supposed to do while he showers, sit on his bed and drink?

As we ascend, he leans against the elevator door with his foot on the wall, his hands in his pockets, facing me. He smiles slightly, and I can see traces of his dimples. Then out of nowhere he breaks out in song, singing an ode to the t-shirt I wore earlier today. Watching him as he sings Lola, he seems lost in the song. He’s so attractive, and watching him sing makes my breath quicken and my insides tighten.

When he reaches the lyric that mentions Cherry Cola, he grins crookedly. His tone is amazing, and I just close my eyes and listen, trying to control my breathing. He stops singing before he gets to the next line about sipping champagne.

I’m hyperaware of his closeness without even opening my eyes. He strides to stand directly in front of me, and his breath is noticeably quicker. He takes my hand and kisses it before leaning into my ear and whispering, “Do you like Cherry Cola?” The elevator doors open, and the connection is lost.

Chapter Eight

SOMETHING MORE

I know there is something more

We don’t even know what we’re fighting for

I have to ask why then

Because I don’t understand

I know there is something more.

I can’t stop thinking about everything that has already happened today as we exit the elevator. River grabs my hand and leads me down a magnificently decorated hallway. The floor is checkered in different white toned tiles, the walls are a spa-blue with creamy-white colored picture moldings equally spaced apart, each housing different photographs of the desert, secured by glass panels.

Walking down the hallway, I begin to wonder about the something more as my mind fades back to the question I asked myself so long ago. Does love at first sight really exist? It’s an interesting question. If you had asked me that question five years ago, I’d have said absolutely not. The love Ben and I had for each other evolved over our many years as friends. I can’t even remember when our love went from the love between two friends to falling in love.

Then one drunken girls night out, I met the man who is now leading me to his hotel room and wondered to myself; Could I suddenly believe in love at first sight? How could love at first sight even exist when you were already in love with someone else?

And now, after River’s serenade in the elevator, I’m asking myself that very same question again. Only this time, the man I was already in love with is gone. Ben is just a beautiful memory of my past, and with that, the ‘danger’ of the man next to me is gone as well.