I breathe in. Breathe out. Don’t think about Alan. Keep him in the lockbox where he belongs. Think about why you are in Indy. Why you wanted to return early. What you’ve been thinking about since you left Neil five days ago in Memphis.
Think of Neil. Nothing else. Think of Neil. What was it Jack said? I think about where I am. Not the past. Not the future. Well, Chrissie, you’re in Indianapolis. Think about why you are here.
A measure of calm has returned by the time the taxi pulls into the circular driveway in front of the hotel and a sharply dressed valet rushes forward to open my door. I take cash from the pocket in my purse to pay, and before I climb out of the car, my bag is sitting on the curb with an attendant in wait.
“Are you checking in, Miss?” he asks.
“No, I already have a room.” I hold up my index finger. “One second. I just need to call and find out where.”
I dial my phone again and wait. I stare into the lobby. The hotel is packed with people from the tour like it always is everywhere we stayed, but I don’t see anyone I am friendly with. Definitely none of the guys from the band are loitering in the lobby.
I cover my ear not pressed against the receiver with my hand to block out the noise. Ring. Ring. Ring. Fucking voice mail again.
I snap it shut and enter the hotel, cutting my way through the people toward the front desk. Crap, there is a line at check-in. I don’t want to wait in line just to get a room number.
I drop my arms on the marble countertop, smile and stare at a clerk. After trying to ignore me several minutes, he comes over to the spot across the counter from me.
“How may I help you?” he asks in that snotty way clerks do in the better hotels.
“I don’t know what room I’m in.”
Jeez, that sounded lame.
“Name?”
“Stanton.”
“Do you have ID, Miss?”
“Yes, I have ID.” I drop my purse on the counter. I pull out my wallet. “Oh crap. My license says Parker. But the Stanton room is my room. Get it?”
Now the way he’s looking at me is just plain insulting.
“Hold on.”
He grabs the phone and dials.
“Mr. Stanton, there is a Miss Parker at the desk…” His voice trails off and he nods for a while. Then, “OK. I’ll send her up.”
I exhale slowly, but internally I’m really annoyed because if Neil is in the room why didn’t he answer his fucking mobile?
I’m emotionally messy by the time I climb into the elevator, and I don’t want to be. I wanted this to be a perfect first day back with Neil. I definitely hoped Indy would be a special kind of day, sort of like a new beginning for us. Me being less frustrating and indecisive. The both of us more clear on where we’re going together. I’m not ready to say yes, I’ll marry you, but I’m seriously considering it and I want Neil to know that. I think it will make him happy.
Well, that’s what I’d hoped when I boarded a plane seven hours ago in Santa Barbara, but the Alan phone call has knocked me out of whack. Then the Neil phone calls—or rather non-phone calls—have started to make me feel anxious, though I don’t know why and I know they probably shouldn’t.
We exit the elevator, and the floor with the bank of rooms for the guys is noisier than usual. Crap, Delmo must be on the same floor with us again. There are people everywhere, girls everywhere, things I don’t want to see everywhere, doors open, small parties within this giant party. Give them an extra day on the hop and this is what guys do with it.
I glance into a room as I pass, and I really wish I hadn’t. I know that Les Wilson is a freaking man-whore, but I don’t like to see it because I know I’m going to be hanging out with his girlfriend again someday. Jeez, how will I ever be able to look Veronica in the eyes again after this tour?
The music, the activity, the loudness is intense, and I take more interest in the open doors I pass. Stupid, Chrissie, stupid. Neil isn’t a partier. He’s a loner like you. Stop checking out the action all around you and trying to catch him doing God knows what.
The bellhop drops my bag outside a door and hands me a key.
“Here you are, Miss Parker.”
What the heck? All that, the phone call from the desk, the escort to the upper floor, just to give me a key and then walk away. My bag. You could carry my bag inside.
I stare at the door. Now I’m pissed. I was already edgy before I exited the elevator into this madness, but something about this has my nerve-tips prickling. What’s up with the ignored phone calls and Neil having me escorted up here?
Really, Neil, escorted?
I struggle to get the key in the lock, turn the knob, shove open the door, then hold it with my leg and drag my bags in. I let the door slam behind me. I look up.
Oh my. My eyes widen. My gaze slowly moves around the room and everything inside me turns to hot, roiling liquid.
My eyes lock with Neil’s.
“Welcome back,” he whispers.
I suck in a breath. The room is bathed in soft candlelight. The candles are everywhere, on every table and on every surface, dozens of them. And Neil is lying in the center of the bed, reclined on a hip, facing me and gloriously naked, every inch of him fully exposed, in an inviting posture waiting for me. His cheek rests in his palm and his messy waves frame his face, and the look in his eyes takes my breath away.
I start to take in other details of the room. The champagne on the night table next to a neatly arranged plate of Oreo cookies and strawberries. I laugh. What kind of guy remembers your weird food preference? Crap, there is even a cake and an elegantly wrapped present beside it.
I don’t know what to say. This I did not expect.
“You took an early flight,” Neil remarks into my silence. “We only got into Indy an hour ago. It didn’t leave me a lot of time to work with.”
Understanding comes to me in rich waves, making me acutely aware of why I love him. “You ignored my calls on purpose. You slowed me down getting to the room on purpose, so you could do all this.”
“Happy birthday, Chrissie.”
Moisture blurs my vision. “It is now, Neil.”
~~~
I lie naked in the wrap of Neil’s arms, quiet and sexually spent. The sex only ended because I think we’re both exhausted, but we’ve been kissing and touching ever since. Five days apart. Too long. If there had been a shred of doubt he missed me or that he’d cheated on me while I was gone, it would have died the first time we made love.
I feel drained, or I would be working toward sex again in this quiet after our passion. We have had nothing but mind-blowing sex for hours. Neil has been on fire tonight. I was on fire tonight. I didn’t expect that when I stepped into the room.
Everything changes. It changes quickly. This time it has changed in a good way.
“I can’t believe you did all this,” I whisper and then touch my lips to his forearm.
“You came back early. I wanted it to be special for you.”
I turn in his arms and stare at him with what I’m sure is lust-sparkling eyes. “Oh, definitely special. This night goes into the record books.”
Neil laughs.
I look at him. “If we were to get married, how would it work?”
He eases up to stare directly into my face and the passion haze leaves his gaze. “I don’t know, Chrissie. How does marriage work for anyone?”
“That’s not what I mean.”
He settles back against the pillow, draping me across his chest and holding me in the circle of his arms. He starts stroking my back in a gentle, soothing way.
“Why don’t you tell me what you mean, Chrissie? Things work better when I don’t try to figure out what you are asking.”
God, I feel stupid. “Very funny. Ha. Ha.”
His eyes grow serious. “I’m not messing with you. I want to know what you’re thinking and it does work better when I don’t try to figure it out and just let you tell me.”