Page 27 of Elf-ish

chapter 10

[Jude]

In the morning, I wake to knocking on the hotel room door.

“Hang on,” I mutter, standing to my full height, adjusting my morning wood, which could not be prevented as I’d been dreaming about a certain redhead in my hotel bed. The bed I did not share with her.

Giving the bed a quick glance, Angelica’s hair is sprawled in all directions as she lies on her front with her cheek against a pillow. Her arms are tucked underneath the firm pillow. Her legs obviously splayed outward like she’s a giant starfish in the oversized bed.

“Lucky,” I mumble as the hammering continues and I reach inside the closet for a robe, quickly covering myself and loosely tying the sash at my waist.

Considering my roommate is dead asleep despite the racket, I don’t think she’s ordered room service.

“What?” I snap, opening the door and registering that my prediction was correct. Angelica did not order breakfast.

Instead, Walt stands in the hallway.

“Mornin’.” He tips up his chin, looking a little rough. Bloodshot eyes. Pale cheeks. “You didn’t respond to the text I sent you, so I thought I’d just stop by. Breakfast?”

He gazes around the shield I’ve made of my body, and I swallow thickly, hoping he doesn’t—

“Were you sleeping on the floor?” His eyes come back to my face, pinching with the question.

“He has a bad back.” The headless voice echoes from behind me, and I shift, thankful Walt isn’t getting a view of Angelica this morning.

“Bad back or not, you shouldn’t be sleeping on the floor with your condition.”

My heart. “I’m fine,” I counter, turning in a way to block Walt’s view of my room again.

“Angelica,” Walt hollers into the room. “I expect you to be taking care of our boy here.” Walt winks at me. The movement was slow, almost like his eyelid had trouble lowering then lifting again.

Boy. That’s been the issue. These older men all think I’m a child. The kid racing around my great-grandfather’s office or hiding beneath clothing racks. A young lad who stole a toy from a store with my name on it before I was an actual owner. A teen who lost his virginity in a fitting room.

“Yes, sir,” Angelica calls back, still not visible, thanks to the wall blocking off the bed.

“Jude.” Walt appraises my attire. “I’ll give you fifteen minutes.”

“I’ll see you downstairs.” After a sharp head nod and a quick shutting of the door, I lean against it and tip back my head.

“Fuck,” I groan, swiping a hand down my face, closing my eyes a second as I do, and then opening them to an angelic mirage in front of me.

Hair wild like she had a restless night in bed, I’ve never seen those curls so untamed. She wore a braid all the times I’ve seen her, other than last night when she had the low twist at her nape.

But this version of her? This vision . . . fuck!

“How did you sleep?” Her voice expresses concern, but I’m stuck on her lips. The way her mouth curls. That damn freckle just below the corner on the left.

“Okay, I guess,” I mutter, realizing the truth. Despite spending the night on the floor, I actually did sleep pretty well. The night was full of dreams. High school hallways. Faceless girls. And searching for one with wild red hair. “You?” Had she dreamt of me? Sought me out?

“I slept amazing.” She tucks her hands beneath the mass of curls and lifts them upward.

My mouth falls open as the strands flare out in all directions, and I want to slip my fingers through the explosion. Then wrap as much as I can around my fists and tug her head back so I can suck on her neck and lick that sacred freckle.

Jesus. I swipe my hand down my face again. “I need a shower.” I need to fucking jack off and get these visions of her out of my head.

“I’m going to hit the gym,” she says.

“Yep.” I nod. “Need the bathroom before I jump in?”