“Did you know the Horizon Hotel has a glass elevator?”
I shake my head. I’ve never been in a glass elevator. I bet the Horizon people built it to overlook the ocean as it goes up to some ungodly expensive penthouse no one but the Pope can afford. “Really? Where?”
Silver-plated double doors slide open. “It’s on the other side of the hotel. You should ask Piper to take you for a ride before checkout tomorrow. The view is beautiful.”
We step inside and nineties-contemporary music steals the conversation. My skin crawls, the silence allowing my brain to micro analyze what we’re (hopefully) about to do. I can't let my mind talk me out of this. It’s today or never. “The ceremony downstairs was nice.”
“I guess.”
My gaze follows Logan’s hands as they settle in his pockets, and then it lingers on his zipper. The elevator buzzes once, letting us know we’ve passed the first floor. I snap my eyes up, cheeks burning hotter than the sun.
“I can tell you renting the ballroom the past two nights cost Walter over ten grand and that’s before food.”
“Holy crap that’s expensive!” I can’t imagine spending so much money on a venue and that might not include the ceremony rentals. “If I ever get married, I’m going to the courthouse.”
“Oh yeah,” Logan guffaws. “I never pegged you for a justice of peace kinda girl.”
“Weddings are stupid expensive. If we—” Shit! Hopefully he didn’t catch that. “I ever got married, it would be a tiny ceremony with like five people. Then I’d spend that money on the honeymoon of all honeymoons, traveling the world for two or so weeks. Afterwards, I’d have a celebrational cookout and that would be that.”
Our elevator buzzes again., the doors opening. Hard to believe we’re on our floor already. “Sounds like you’ve got it all planned out.”
Only because I spent too many nights wondering what could have been. I thought I had all of the what-if’s out of my system, but then that damned wedding invitation came. I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about what I would have done had this been our wedding or what our life could be. “This is me.”
Logan lo
oks at my door, brows drawn together. “So it is.”
We stand in the hallway, awkward tension growing between us with each passing second. I’ve never had a one night stand and while Logan and I have history, that’s essentially what this is. I don’t know how to do it.
“You’ve got an ocean view room?” he asks.
“Yeah!” That came out louder than I’d hoped. Logan chuckles and I fight the urge to hide my face in my hands. I can save this. “Want to see it?”
“Sure.” He doesn’t seem excited. Why isn’t he excited to come into my room? Doesn’t he know “look at the view” is code for sleeping with me? Breathe, Danika.
I pull my room key from between my tits and wipe the boob sweat on the side of my dress. I smile, hoping Logan didn’t notice and swipe it through the card reader. I hold the door open for him to walk in first. The curtains are drawn so he has to go all the way into the room to see the view. I close the door, silently cursing this stoneage hotel for not having locks on their doors.
“Do you mind?” I walk to the center of the room and turn my back to Logan. “This dress is itchy.”
“Sure.” Logan’s voice cracks, which has to be the hottest thing he’s done this weekend. I still make him nervous. He sets one hand on my hip. The other grasps onto my zipper. He slides it down my back, painfully slow. Every inch of my satin corset is exposed. Logan grunts, letting his hands fall from my body and takes a step back. “Done.”
“Thanks. I’ll be just a minute.” My heart could burst from my chest. It's beating so hard. I need this minute, not to change but to take a deep breath. “Don’t leave.”
I close the door and drop my dress to the floor. Stepping in front of the mirror, I look at myself. My tits are overflowing out of the strapless bustier Sarah tied me into. It’s not hard to get out of, a few clasps and ties in the back, but hopefully it’s too complicated for Logan’s one track mind. I’d rather him not see my stomach and start asking questions.
I grab a quick rag and wet it under the sink then freshen up a bit. I’m not a smelly person, but I’ve got more meat to me than Logan’s probably used to. I sweat in places tiny girls don’t think about and would rather not worry about it. I apply a spritz of perfume, check my makeup, and take a deep breath.
I can do this.
15
Danika
Logan’s gaze finds me the moment I open the door. He leans against the dresser, phone in his hands, but sets it behind him as soon as he sees me. My skin pricks with insecurity. I should have kept my heels on. They would have made this boutsier thing look sexier but I’m not about to grab them. The moment’s here and there's no going back.
“Jesus Christ, you’re beautiful,” Logan mumbles.
Heat climbs my neck. I want to break eye contact and look away because I can’t take the way Logan is looking at me much longer. Instead, I step forward. I can do this.