Part 32 (1/2)

”I need a pack of Marlboro, and um ...” I looked around, frantically, for condoms.

”And ... what?”

”Um ...” c.r.a.p. This woman was older than my grandmother. ”Do you carry condoms?”

”Sure,” she said. Then she pointed to a rack. They were mixed in with the aspirin and tampons and hemorrhoid creams. No frickin' wonder I didn't see them. I grabbed a box and threw it on the counter, and she rung me up.

”Bless you,” I said. ”You've saved my life.”

The lady one-upped me. She winked, her expression lewd. ”Have fun. Don't do anything I wouldn't do.”

First time ever a sixty-year-old woman made me blush. I smiled at her and said, ”Um ... thanks,” and ran for the elevators.

I wasn't tired now. I was bouncing on the b.a.l.l.s of my feet, ready to get the h.e.l.l upstairs. The Musak was playing in the background of the atrium, hideously soothing. I could see a fountain splas.h.i.+ng. I was immune to the serenity. I wanted upstairs now. And the elevator was taking forever. I could have taken the stairs quicker than this.

Finally, the bell rang, the elevator doors opened, and I was inside. I hit the number eight and turned around, looking out through the gla.s.s.

It was nice-I'll admit that. Never stayed in a hotel before, though I'd hung out in the alley behind the Charles Hotel and gotten high with my friends. The lobby here was huge, with the big fountain in the center, and rooms facing inside. We were on eight. I needed to be on eight. Now.

Door finally opened, and I almost sprinted down the hall, swiped the keycard, and I was in.

Then I stopped and took a breath.

Julia had undressed, leaving on only a very s.e.xy black lace bra, the blanket turned down. She was stunning. And apparently waiting for me. And while waiting, she'd fallen dead asleep. I sighed. Then I slid out of my jacket and hung it on the back of the chair.

I walked over and kneeled down beside the bed, our faces inches apart. She looked peaceful, a half smile on her face. I wondered if she was already dreaming, and if so, what about. I wanted to be inside her head and know everything about her. But for now, I kissed her gently on the cheek, pulled up the blanket and tucked her in.

In her sleep, she looked so innocent. Except I could see the scars. She'd made a pile of bracelets on the nightstand, leaving on only the worn pink and white friends.h.i.+p bracelet. Her lips were slightly curled at the edge of her mouth, and asleep, she looked carefree, young.

My eyes dropped to the scars again. I'd kill anybody who hurt her.

I should wake her up.

No. I shouldn't.

She might appreciate it if I did.

She might not.

She needed the sleep. I sighed and walked to the sliding gla.s.s door, then slipped out onto the balcony and lit a cigarette. It was quiet up here, though I could see the traffic on the highway below. I took a drag, and glanced back through the window. She'd rolled to her side, pulling the covers around her.

I didn't know how to do this. I didn't know how to be in a relations.h.i.+p. Especially with someone who didn't believe in love or relations.h.i.+ps. It's crazy. I'm the guy who grabs a girl out of the crowd and screws her, then sends her home in a cab in the morning. If that much. In a lot of ways, I've spent my life being a complete p.r.i.c.k.

I didn't want to be a p.r.i.c.k any more.

Which didn't mean I didn't look at Julia as a s.e.x object. I've not suddenly turned into a saint, and looking at her, it was inescapable. But she was also smart as h.e.l.l and determined, and she took on those record industry guys like no one I know could have. She cared about Sean, and loved music, and even though she wouldn't admit it, even to herself, I was starting to think she might love me.

Plus, as of today, I was officially a rock star. So screw it.

I tossed my cigarette, watching the coal as it flew out of sight and slid the door open. There were two hotel toothbrushes, one of them still wrapped in plastic in the bathroom. I sloshed water in my mouth and slid into bed with her, instead of in the other bed.

I curled up behind her, put my arm around her and went to sleep.

Are you serious? (Julia) An unfamiliar alarm clock was screaming at me. And someone's arm was wrapped tight around my waist.

I struggled to open my eyes and figure out just where the h.e.l.l I was, when it came back. Los Angeles. That was Crank wrapped around me. And the alarm was going off. Which meant we needed to be at the airport in an hour. I stretched out and switched off the alarm.

I groaned, then rolled over and faced Crank.

Twenty-four hours of stubble had sprouted on his face, shading his chin and making me want to miss that plane. But I had cla.s.s on Monday, and he had to work, and there wasn't time, and d.a.m.n it. I leaned forward and kissed him, hard on the lips. His eyes popped open immediately, and I said, forcefully, ”You suck!”

He was startled.

”Get up,” I said. ”We've got to get to the airport.”

”Oh, s.h.i.+t,” he said. ”Are we late? What did I do?”

”Left me hanging,” I said. ”So you could buy cigarettes.”

I turned away and sat up. My head was swimming, my body clock all out of whack now.

”Actually,” he murmured, very quietly, ”I went to buy condoms. But you were asleep when I got up here.”

I leaned forward and laughed, but that made my head start hurting. ”Are you serious?” I asked.

”Yeah,” he said, sheepishly.

”I'm going to get a shower,” I said.

I got up and stumbled to the shower, while he groaned and sat up. Then I walked over to my purse near the door and tore open the box inside. His back was to me, so he jumped when I threw the first packet at him, whacking him in the back of the head with a wrapped condom.

”What the h.e.l.l?” he said, jerking. The next one caught him on the side of the face.

”Condoms, punk,” I said, throwing another one. That one he caught. He lifted it up and shook his head and groaned.

I went into the bathroom and brushed my teeth. G.o.d. I couldn't believe he'd gone to buy condoms. Why didn't he just say something?

I turned on the water, fiddling with the temperature until it was right, then slipped out of my bra and panties and got in the shower.

I stuck my head under the stream of water, closed my eyes and sighed, already feeling my headache starting to clear. I needed that. Usually I keep regular hours, and while I'm not p.r.o.ne to jetlag, staying up for 24 hours straight isn't normal for me.

I'd have gladly stayed up a couple more, if he'd made it upstairs. I felt stupid: I'd carefully arranged the room, and myself, as provocatively as possible. Then stared up at the ceiling, getting more and more frustrated, as my eyes became heavier and heavier. Next thing I knew, the alarm was going off.

I pulled my head out from under the water and started to reach for the shampoo when I heard his voice.

”You've got ten seconds to say no, or throw something at me, or yell or whatever. Otherwise, I'm coming in there.”

I froze. My heart was suddenly beating heavily, my chest tight, and I felt lightheaded. I hadn't expected this. In the shower? I'd dated Willard for almost two years, and never once had something like this happened. He was straight missionary position, once a week, like clockwork. There were a couple times when I had difficulty staying awake when we were together.

Not now. I felt tingling as the water beat against my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and then behind me, the shower curtain sliding.