Home > The Beat of My Heart (A Broken Hearts Series, Book #2)(9)

The Beat of My Heart (A Broken Hearts Series, Book #2)(9)
Author: Avery Maxwell

“You’re right. I will be better off if I stop worrying about a hook-up. Maybe it’s time to order a new vibrator. It will definitely cause me less anxiety than this—even if Al at the post office tells GG that I got a naughty toy again,” I tell her, laughing.

“Oh my gosh, Jules. Only in this town would you getting a vibrator make front-page news.” We are both laughing so hard now, we are nearly in tears.

Looking up, I realize it’s getting late, “I should go get ready, the cocktail welcome party starts in forty-five minutes, and if I get stuck in a damn dress again, I will need time to call someone.” This has her laughing all over again.

“Okay, Jules. But hey, if you do have hot wild monkey sex, I want to hear all about it immediately, Luvs,” she tells me right before hanging up.

“Luvs,” I reply to an empty room. “Fuck, she better not have stuck that death trap of a dress in my suitcase.”

Opening my laptop, I want to scan my accounting software before I leave to make sure there have been no new accounts opened in my name. “I’ve become somewhat OCD about it, I know, but when the man you love up and leaves with 100K in cash from your savings, only to find out he has been opening cards and lines of credit in your name for almost six months, it tends to make you a little paranoid,” I tell the empty room.

Glancing around while my computer boots up, I take in my surroundings and am glad I’m not paying for this room. Everything about it screams money. “You’re at the Four-Seasons, moron. Of course, everything in here is expensive,” I snort.

Satisfied that nothing looks amiss, I go about unpacking all the outfits Lanie had me buy and hope like hell I can find something to wear that won’t try to kill me.

 

 

Chapter 5

 

 

-Catch, Brett Young

 

 

Trevor

 

 

Leaning against the wall of the elevator, I let the doors close even though this was my floor too. That crazy woman was the same one I kept from falling beside her car. The thought makes me smile. She had no idea I was behind her this entire time, and the diatribe that flew from her mouth was entrancing. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing more than once. The best part is, she wasn’t even talking to someone for half of it. That bit of comic relief, I realize, is just what I needed to start this week off. I told her I didn’t want to be here either, but she doesn’t know the half of it.

I ride down to the lobby, then back up to our floor. Our floor? The thought causes me to misstep, but unlike my little pixie friend, I catch myself. I stare at each door as I pass, wondering what room the fiery little angel is in. What the fuck? Pixie? Angel? Those are not words in my vocabulary and have me seriously regretting not taking Loki’s advice to talk with Dex before I left.

My room is at the end of the hall—one of the two suites on this floor. Holding my phone up to the keypad of room 3206, I hear the slight clicking sound and push the door open. I don’t have much time before my reservation in the hotel bar, so I quickly unpack and change. I would have liked a shower, but there is no time.

Remembering what Loki had told me, I take my phone from my pocket and start the app. Setting it in the safe, I grab the one left there by his team and feel the sweat trickle down my spine. I’m not a wuss by nature, but when you’re trying to take down the mob and the monster who killed your mother, all bets are off.

Taking a deep breath and physically shaking out my arms, I crack my neck from left to right and walk once again towards the elevator. I can’t help it. As I walk through the hallway, I listen for her voice. Perhaps I will find a distraction here, after all.

Stepping into the hotel bar, I head to the table in the corner. It’s a rounded booth that faces the lobby of the hotel. Sitting in the middle of it allows me to see everyone that comes and goes. The large potted tree to my right also helps keep me concealed. I notice I have an unobstructed view of the elevator, so I watch that spot more than anything else.

“Welcome, sir. My name is Anthony, and I’ll be taking care of you this evening. Will you be joining us for dinner or just drinks?” the waiter standing in front of me asks. I’m about to answer him when something catches my attention, and I wave him aside.

“Just a Macallan, neat for now, please,” I tell him, my attention on the elevator and the tiny little package that just exited.

Until now, I hadn’t fully seen her face. She was always a mass of wild hair and sweat pants, four sizes too big. There is no doubt the woman who just stepped off the elevator is my Angel, and I am hypnotized. Gone are the sweat pants and long-sleeved Henley. Now she is wearing a form-fitting navy dress that hits just below mid-thigh. I can tell from here that she hates it. Watching her tug at the hem, stomp her foot, then stare at the ceiling, I grin.

Angel steps to the side of the elevator, seemingly to plot her next move, and I lean back in my booth to watch her. She is mesmerizing in the strangest of ways. She is gorgeous. Her green eyes sparkle even from twenty yards away, and her chocolate brown hair falls around her shoulders in waves. She is holding her bottom lip between her thumb and forefinger, but even from here, I can see her lips moving. She is spewing something that I desperately wish I could hear. As she takes a step forward, I lean in, hoping I'll get a full view of her in that dress, utterly aware of my stalker-ish tendencies here.

She takes a step forward, then two back. It’s a dance all of her own. I feel a need to put her out of her misery. I’m about to go talk to her when the girl jumps a mile, bobbling her phone in her hands. The scowl followed by relief that washes over her face has me in a trance. She darts left, then right, and now she is heading straight towards me, stopping on the other side of the potted tree I am hiding behind. She has positioned herself so far into it that anyone passing by would be hard-pressed to even see her. What she doesn’t realize is she has backed herself up so far, I could reach out and touch her from my booth. God, her ass looks fantastic.

“I can’t do this,” I hear her hiss into her phone. “Seriously, I think I should just go back to my room, order room service, and watch Netflix.”

Oh no, she isn’t getting away that easily.

“I don’t think one-night stands work like that,” she tells her partner in crime. I wish I could hear the other side of that conversation.

“One drink. You hear me? I will order one drink and then I’m going to my room. I don’t even want to go to this thing,” she continues to hiss into her phone.

Funny, I notice she doesn’t ramble nearly as much when she is actually talking to someone. I see her jam her phone back into the little clutch she is carrying, then tug on her dress again.

“Come on, you big baby. You can do this. Who cares if you’re standing in a bush outside your hotel bar talking to yourself? You don’t know anyone here, and it is only a week.” She exhales, “What were you thinking, you dumbass? You are not someone who has a one-night stand. No one sticks around once you start babbling anyway,” she murmurs.

Angel snorts and starts laughing at herself. She is back to mumbling, and even though she is so close, I can’t make out the last words.

Angling my face towards her, I say, “I’m listening, and I’m not leaving anytime soon.”

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