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The third floor makes complete sense.
I don’t say anything, just nod.
As a kid, I protected the little quirks that made him who he was as if they were my own. I was the only one who knew him and didn’t taunt him. Even his mom ridiculed him, but not me. I knew what it was like to feel less than. So I never did.
If he’s staying on the third floor, I have it narrowed down to which room he’ll be in.
“You’re really going to do this?” she asks, searching my face.
I bob my head.
“Well, my contact says he’s there right now. He arrived after dinner and hasn’t left.” He has a game tomorrow. He wouldn’t be anywhere else. “Will you be okay?” she asks, and I wave off her worries with a dismissive gesture.
“I’ll be fine, Em. It’s just a short walk to the hotel. Besides, I can’t let this chance slip away. Who knows when I’ll get another opportunity like this?”
Emma sighs, her expression revealing a mixture of resignation and support. “Just promise me you’ll be careful. If you need anything, call me. And please, don’t do anything that could get you hurt.”
“I promise,” I reassure her, a mischievous grin creeping onto my face now that the earlier tequila is working its magic. “Help me find my shoes.”
“No.”
I stop looking for them and glance at her. “What?”
“Have you seen what you’re wearing?” She drops her gaze to roam up and down my body.
I peer down at my outfit. Black-and-red-checkered pajama pants and a stained white tee. I squint. Is that butter? I pull the material up. Yep. Butter.
“Oh shit.”
Emma runs into her room with a laugh, and a second later, she’s tossing a top and skirt at me. I don’t bother to look at it; I just strip down to my bra and underwear and change.
She has the decency to cover her eyes as I do, but in all fairness, I’m drunk enough not to care.
“Done,” I say once I’m dressed.
Emma drops her hand and leads me to the door, where she hands me my coat.
It might be April, but Michigan’s weather is a fickle beast. It’s not unheard of to have all four seasons in one day. It’s better to be prepared.
I wrap it around myself, the chilly night air hitting me as I step out onto the street.
Nervous energy courses through me as I turn and wave to her and start walking through the dimly lit streets on the way to the hotel.
My senses feel clouded by a mixture of anticipation and intoxication.
The rhythmic click of my heels against the pavement is drowned out by the buzzing in my ears, a constant reminder of the drink’s effect on my body. But as the cool night air brushes against my flushed cheeks, the effect of the tequila drifts away.
The farther I get from Emma, the more sober I become.
This is a horrible idea.
This is by far the dumbest idea I’ve ever had.
My feet stumble, most likely my subconscious telling me to stop, but I don’t. Because now that I have conjured up the idea that I might see Aiden, I can’t let anything stop me.
My mind replays memories of the time I spent in my childhood with him.
We spent countless hours together. Endless hours under the tree.
