The Hone-Don't List the sweetest new romcom from the bestselling author of The Unhoneymooners - Christina Lauren Page 0,55
never do any of those things. It’s not what you’re thinking.” I glance around the room, at my skirt that practically waves like a floozy from the floor where James threw it. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to tell Melly—I certainly didn’t want to tell her like this—and now I have to. “This isn’t Rusty’s room.”
“It is, Carey.” She holds up her key. “They didn’t have adjoining rooms, and Joe gave me the spare.”
“There must have been a mix-up when he handed them out.” I take a deep breath and let it out as evenly as possible. “This isn’t Rusty’s room, it’s James’s.”
Her forehead moves only infinitesimally these days—all the muscles kept in place with Botox and sheer will—but there’s definitely something displeased happening in her expression: the twitch of a perfectly waxed brow, the narrowing of her eyes.
I swallow; my throat is suddenly dry. With another quick glance, I nod to his shiny aluminum suitcase in the corner. “I spent the night with James.”
My admission seems to have taken some of the fire out of her, but she’s clearly not convinced. Stepping away from the hallway, she finally takes a look at something other than me and my body barely covered by sheets. She stops in front of the closet and cracks open the door. Instead of finding Rusty’s jerseys or custom tailored shirts, a row of neatly spaced button-downs stares back. Melly snorts, shaking her head at the view, and for a brief moment I think she might burst out laughing.
But then she closes the door and slowly turns. I barely breathe as her sharp eyes take in the general disarray around us. Besides my clothes, the garbage can is knocked over, my bra is on the desk lamp, and there’s a hastily torn open Intimacy Kit next to the bed.
“Well,” she says, and steps over what I think is my underwear. “You and James.”
I tread lightly. She might seem calm, but something’s lurking just below the surface. Right now Melissa reminds me a lot of a spider, and this feels entirely like a trap, luring me in.
“I don’t know if I would say me and James, exactly.” I motion to my sheet. “Could I put something on?”
She gives me a clipped “Of course,” and I stand up, sheet wrapped securely around me, and head for the bathroom.
Safely inside, I look at myself in the mirror again. I’m the same Carey from ten minutes ago, but I feel like a totally different person. Or, rather, I feel like the same Carey who got into the elevator yesterday, not the one who woke up this morning refreshed, relaxed, sexed, and wondering if—for once—someone might be completely on my team.
I don’t want to look at myself anymore. Shaking my head, I pull on the thick white bathrobe from the back of the door and head out again.
My boss is at the window, her blond hair white in the early light. With a nervous glance toward the door, I wonder when James will come back. A few minutes ago, I wanted him to hurry. Now I want the barista downstairs to take their sweet time. I wouldn’t wish this conversation on anyone, and I certainly don’t wish Melly’s ire on James.
“So how long has this been a thing?”
I turn at the sound of her voice.
I’m not exactly sure what to tell her, because I’m not sure myself. “It’s new.”
She lets out a small, humorless laugh. “Right. That’s why you two are always huddled together. Why he’s always looking at you. Why you’re always talking. Because it’s new.”
I think back over the last few days and can’t really argue. It might have started as camaraderie, as us against them, but somewhere along the way it changed.
“I don’t know what’s going on with you, Carey. It’s always been you and me, a team. But lately …”
“We are a team. What’s happening between James and me isn’t about work.” For once, I don’t add, I didn’t think about you for an entire night.
But of course Melly would never believe this. She turns around, arms folded tightly across her chest. “Isn’t it? I used to be able to depend on you—for everything. You were in my corner, and I was in yours.”
“I don’t understand where this is coming from. None of that’s changed.”
“You disappeared yesterday,” she says.
“The luncheon was winding down.” It’s hard to admit it, but I suck it up: “I was totally wiped and needed a break.”