My Favorite Souveni- Penelope Ward , Vi Keeland Page 0,50
our last night sank in. If we had less than twenty-four hours left, I wanted to spend every last moment next to Milo. He handed the woman his credit card and license and strummed his fingers on the counter.
“Actually, ma’am,” I said. “Could we change our reservation?”
The woman’s brows knitted, and she looked up. “You want to stay more than one night?”
“No. But we only need one suite.” I turned to the man standing next to me and lowered my voice. “Would that be okay with you?”
Milo’s eyes washed over my face, and he looked into my eyes for a few, very long seconds. He nodded. “Yeah. Definitely.”
Linking our fingers together on the counter, I smiled at the clerk. “One suite instead of two, please.”
The woman looked amused. “No problem.”
After she finished checking us in, she put two plastic key cards into a small holder and looked around the lobby. Leaning in, she said, “I ordered a bottle of champagne and some chocolate-covered strawberries to your room. If the manager happens to ask, your bathroom wasn’t working, so I sent it as an apology for the inconvenience. It’s also why you’ve been upgraded to our deluxe suite.”
Milo took the keys with a giant smile. “You’re the best.”
She looked at us with a coy smirk. “Enjoy your evening.”
• • •
Our suite was gorgeous. We had a view of downtown Atlanta, a separate living room and bedroom, and a bathroom that was bigger than most decent-sized hotel rooms. After I went online and made my flight arrangements, I decided the big bathtub was too irresistible to ignore. Plus, the hotel had a bevy of spa products lined up on a glass shelf in the bathroom that I couldn’t wait to try, including a coconut and sea salt bath bomb.
So I filled the tub, told Milo I’d have my ear buds in, and climbed into the warm water. Shutting my eyes as I settled in, I put on classical music and tried to relax. I’d had a tension knot the size of a golf ball in my neck ever since Felicity called.
It seemed unimaginable that tomorrow at this time I’d be back home in Connecticut. Obviously, this trip had to come to an end sooner or later, but I wasn’t ready for tonight to be the last one. Milo and I had been together less than two weeks, yet the thought of going home and not seeing him left a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach. I’d grown so attached to him.
Deep down, however, I did know I needed to figure things out with Brady before starting anything new. Milo had been right about that from the very beginning. And it made me so much more attracted to him to know he put my emotional needs above his own physical ones. Because a lesser man might not have. It would’ve been so easy for Milo to get me into bed, to take advantage of my neediness and vulnerability, especially because I was so attracted to him. But he didn’t. And while not quite two weeks might not be that long to know someone, the way he’d handled things between us had really shown me the type of man he was.
My effort to relax in the tub turned out to be an epic failure, though it wasn’t for lack of trying—my skin was pruney by the time I stepped out of the bath. I twisted my wet hair up in a towel, slathered on some of the free body and face lotions, and wrapped the hotel’s luxurious bathrobe around myself. Slipping into monogrammed, matching plush slippers, I finally returned to the living room.
Milo was standing at the windows, drinking a glass of wine. He seemed lost in thought—so much so that he didn’t notice me walking over, until I slipped the wine glass from his hand so we could share it.
I sipped. “Penny for your thoughts...”
He looked me up and down. “Well, that answers that question.”
My brows furrowed. “What question?”
“Could we ever just be friends?”
“That’s what you were thinking about while looking so serious?”
Milo nodded. “I was trying to convince myself we could—that regardless of what happens when you go back home, the two of us could still be friends.”
“Were you successful? I mean, at talking yourself into it?”
Milo smiled. “I was until you walked out with your hair wrapped in a towel, your body hidden beneath ten pounds of cotton bathrobe, and without a lick of makeup.”