Never His Girl (Kings of Cypress Prep #2) - Rachel Jonas Page 0,38
glow of LED candles housekeeping situated around the room, I grin from ear-to-ear and make the equivalent to a snow angel on the now rumpled sheets. The towel around my hair and the robe I found in the closet are, legit, made of clouds and love.
This has to be what paradise is like.
Has to be.
“And the lady just handed you the keys?” Jules asks.
“Yup. Either someone made a huge mistake, or Dr. Pryor pulled some strings because she knows life’s sucked a little lately.”
“Lucky bitch,” Jules teases.
She sat on the phone with me while I soaked in the heart-shaped jacuzzi, and stayed on, keeping me company while I explore the amazing suite I lucked up on. It’s made staying inside while everyone else is out partying a little easier.
“Well, now I’m really wishing I was there with you. But at least I was able to keep my promise. I’m there in spirit. Or… in spirits,” she adds with a laugh, prompting my eyes to drift toward the dwindling bottle of vodka she slipped into my bag. She snuck it in sometime after I packed it, to get me through this weekend.
Best. Friend. Ever.
I’ve gone through enough of it to feel a buzz. Well, maybe a little more than a buzz, but I wouldn’t call it drunk, either. Actually, I feel pretty damn good. More relaxed than I’ve felt in weeks.
“This is the life,” I say with a sigh, wiggling my toes toward the mirrored ceiling.
I have yet to dig clothes out of my suitcase, and I’m starting to think I might just spend the night in this robe. Hell, if I could get away with it, I’d wear it to tomorrow’s game, too.
“Well, whatever happened, you deserve it,” Jules concludes. I smile at that, trying to believe what she just said.
A sharp knock has my heart racing, and I sit straight up in bed.
I stand, securing my robe tighter. “What if it’s the front desk coming to kick me out because they realize they messed up?”
She laughs again. “Then I guess you’d have to get your shit and go. I don’t know! Just open the damn door!”
I approach slowly, peering out through the peephole. A guy in a baseball cap is waiting there, glancing up when he must’ve heard me on the other side.
“Yes? Who is it?” I ask.
“Uh… I just have a delivery,” he says, glancing down at something before meeting my gaze again. “Looks like it’s for someone by the name of Blue Riley?”
“He knows my name,” I whisper to Jules.
“You’re an idiot,” she says back.
Reluctant, I leave the chain link engaged, but open the door a smidge. Only, when I do, there’s no question why he’s here. He greets me with a smile and holds out a small clipboard for me to sign as proof of accepting the delivery.
Quickly relatching the door, I slide the chain off and open it completely this time, signing my name at light speed.
“That’ll do,” the stranger says chipperly. “Need help taking these inside?”
Stunned, I glance down at what has to be about twenty dozen roses, all set in beautiful crystal vases.
“Uh… no, I can manage,” I answer distractedly. “Thank you.”
He tips his hat, and then it’s just me and the flowers. Well, me, the flowers, and also Jules in my ear, asking what’s happening. Only, I’m not really sure how to explain.
“Flowers,” I say, questioning if I’ve had more to drink than I remember, and I’ve dozed off.
“What? From who?”
I hadn’t even thought to check, but when I stoop to look for a card, there isn’t one I can see.
“I don’t know. Maybe whoever was supposed to have this room?” I say, but then remember the delivery guy knew my name.
Taking a quick glance down the hallway, I don’t spot anyone. Still feeling confused as hell, I get started taking the arrangements inside, placing them on the table, dresser, and then along the edges of the room among the LED candles when I run out of surfaces.
“Did you do this?” I ask, drawing a laugh out of Jules.
“I love you, but not that damn much,” she teases. “Does Ricky know you’re there, maybe?”
“Not unless you told him. Then again, Pandora knows, so it’s not like it’s a secret.”
“Truth,” is Jules’s only response.
I’m down to the last vase and head back to the hall to grab it. My head’s still reeling when I snatch the door open, only expecting to