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“No prob. I needed a few days of sunshine and drama after midtermsanyway.”
When I get back to the hotel, I spend the afternoon swimming and working on some homework, trying not to check my phone to see if Tyler’scalled.
But there’snothing.
Not before I head to the venue to get ready for thegig.
Notafter.
Not when I get back and order delivery from a restaurant down the street before I take a hot shower and steam the makeup off myface.
“Well,” I say in the silent bathroom. “Here weare.”
I booked a flight back tomorrow after the final show using my credit card, which I’ll have to pay for—and Iwill.
Skipping the showcase was a setback, but it’s not the end. I’m more determined than ever tosucceed.
I’ll get a job. I’ll see if there’s anything part-time at Vanier or maybe the library at Columbia. I haven’t waited tables, but I could do that, too. I’ll do anything. I’ll learn to stand on my ownfeet.
I pull on clean underwear, then reach for the sleep T-shirt on the counter and tug it over myhead.
Staring at my reflection, I suddenly remember wearing the Ramones T-shirt the night after Tyler saved me at the castparty.
Now, I’m grown-up enough to save myself. I’m also grown-up enough to know that what I feel for Tyler isn’t some passing thing—I love him. I miss him. I crave his company. In the silent hotel room, a wave of longing hitsme.
The knock on the door makes my stomachgrowl.
I switch off the bathroom light and cross the hotelroom.
When I answer the door, every thoughtevaporates.
A gorgeous guy with a day’s scruff blocks the light from the hallway. In a bomber jacket and faded jeans, his hair falls across his face as if he’s been running his hands through it allnight.
“Hi,Six.”
20
When Annie opensthe door of her hotel room, her face slackens inshock.
But what I notice most is how damned beautiful she looks in her gray oversized T-shirt, her hair falling in wet curls around her shoulders. Her face is bare, her lips full and enticing as she takes mein.
“You’re not the delivery guy,” shemurmurs.
“You were going to open the door looking likethat?”
My gaze drags down her body, the way her damp hair leaves wet spots on her shirt, dripping down across her breasts. Her legs are miles long under the hem, begging a man to sell his soul for the chance to wrap them around hiswaist.
Her lips curve. “I was reallyhungry.”
She moves to let me in, and I follow, the door clicking shut behindme.
“I saw your video on Beck’s vlog,” she says as I take in the modest but tidy room with two double beds. “You wereamazing.”
“Thanks.” Her praise warms me in a way no one else’scan.
“Do you want to sit?” she gestures around us, but the only place is the bed. I shake my head. It’s safer to talk like this, standing up, a few feet betweenus.
“Nah. I’ve been sitting on a plane allday.”
