He caught the fleeting looks Riley made his way during the night when Mariah got too close. Mariah was nice to him, and a bit touchy-feely, but he wasn’t interested in her, so all he did was smile at her advances. All night he wanted to pull Riley aside and tell her that but she was never alone. Matt hovered around her the whole damn night, like a vulture, waiting to make his move, even though it was obvious he made her uncomfortable. Matt thrived on attention, and if Riley didn’t give him any, he took it by putting her on the spot, or touching her every chance he got. The guy was a douche. He tried to push Matt out of his mind and for a moment that left room for only Riley.
He struggled with his sheets as they threatened to strangle him and he ended up face down under his pillows, cursing at the World for its apparent disdain for him. His life was stripped away from him, leaving only an empty shell version behind. And then Riley came and he didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t just about being lonely. He didn’t want to ruin what very slim and unlikely chance he had with her but in such a short time she had begun to fill his thoughts completely, consuming the darkness that haunted him, pushing it away and replacing it with…light. She radiated. He didn’t know how to tell her that, or if she was ready to hear it from him.
Part of him was thankful for Mariah, because after her arrival he knew for sure how he felt about Riley. He felt nothing for Mariah. She was young, she was pretty and she was interested in him, she all but said it, but it only made him want Riley more.
He tortured himself with these thoughts as he laid face down in bed on the side that wasn’t bruised, and the last thing he remembered was the feeling of waking up outside by the pool with Riley asleep on his chest, how her arms were tucked up against his stomach, her knees resting on his leg. It felt amazing to hold her like that. He loved the feel of her perfectly shaped body next to his, and the faint lemony smell of her wavy blonde hair that mixed perfectly with the subtle coconut fragrance of her skin.
That was the image he had in his mind when she came into his room in the middle of the night. At first, when he saw her outline, sitting next to him on his own bed he thought he was still dreaming, but she was real when he touched her. She was real when her lips brushed softly against his and he wanted nothing but to hold her again.
***
The room was dark and cold and smelled faintly of smoke. No matter how far down under the blankets I went, I couldn’t get warm. I wondered if Connor was asleep yet, and thought about what he said. It was absolutely true. Things were different. Any people we met, we couldn’t trust based on appearance alone. It was every man for himself. I wondered what it would have been like if I had run into Matt in the city. I was lucky to have found Connor first.
Eventually I kicked the covers off and wrapped myself loosely in the bathrobe. I opened my door to see darkness all around the suite. I quietly crossed the room and stood at Connor’s door, listening for any movement or sounds within. When I opened it slowly and peeked inside, his room was just as dark as mine was, but I could see his form in the bed.
“Connor?” I whispered.
When he didn’t answer I moved deeper into the room and carefully climbed on top of the bed. His back was to me, and his head was buried underneath his pillow. I crawled to the middle of his bed and touched his shoulder with my hand. His body jerked and he sprang upright, startling me.
“I’m sorry.” I said in a hushed voice. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Are you okay?” He asked, groggy with sleep, dragging his hand through his hair. It was a gesture I could watch him do over and over again and never get tired of.
“Yes, I’m fine. It’s stupid.” I paused, suddenly embarrassed. “I couldn’t sleep.” I hesitated before saying, “I just wanted to say thanks - for earlier.”
When he didn’t say anything I began to move away from him, certain that I shouldn’t be there, sitting on his bed in the middle of the night, but then he reached out and clutched a handful of my sleeve. His hand moved up my arm and down the front fold of my robe as he tugged me closer to him.
Our faces were inches apart. I spoke just above a whisper when I repeated, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You already said that,” he whispered back.
“Sorry,” I laughed softly.
“You already said that too,” he teased.
I smiled, even though it was dark and he probably couldn’t see much of my face. I felt his palm move across my collarbone, just inside the opening of my robe and a soft gasp escaped my lips. His hand slid across my bra strap and grazed up my neck and he ran his fingers along my jaw, slowly tracing the outline of my mouth. I leaned into him and touched my lips to his. Connor’s hands wrapped tightly around me, pulling me in to his chest and I nuzzled my face into his neck.
We sat in the center of his bed until the heat from our touching bodies wasn’t enough to warm us anymore. Connor pulled his shirt over his head and handed it to me and I slipped the robe off my bare shoulders and wiggled into his cotton shirt. We slid under the covers together and I pressed my body against his and let him hold me close. We stretched out onto our sides facing each other, with one of his arms tucked under the pillow, the other draped naturally around my waist. My head rested just below his chin and our legs became enmeshed together. The feeling of his thighs pressed against mine was thrilling, and oddly comforting.
I closed my eyes and listened to Connor’s steady breathing and felt the thudding of his heart in his chest. I drew in his aroma, his clean, fresh masculine scent. I wanted to stamp his smell into my memory; it was refreshing but also calming.
“Can I stay with you all night?” I murmured into his bare chest.
He whispered into my hair, “I’m not letting go.”
***
When they had settled under the covers, Connor felt the contours of her body relax and mold into his, and he felt whole beside her. She had one arm around him, and it rested in between his shoulder blades so that when he breathed, he felt the pressure of her hand rise and fall slightly on his back. She curled her bare legs around his and buried her feet into his flannel pajama pants.
Her soft skin felt perfect as he ran his hand gently from her neck, down her spine and over her hips. When she sighed, the fullness of her breasts pressed into his ribcage and he draped his arm around her waist, holding her to him. Finally, he could hold her the way he imagined so many times since he met her. He tightened his embrace when she asked if she could stay with him. And when dawn finally rose, they were still nestled in each other’s arms, sound asleep.
CHAPTER EIGHT
When morning came, it wasn’t the sunshine filtering through the gaps in the curtains that woke me; it was the continuous drumming of rain drops pelting the window panes. I opened my eyes and a shiny sea of sateen white sheets started at my nose and flowed down the length of the bed. I knew I wasn’t in my room and after blinking at the foreign set of sheets with their matching duvet cover, I tilted my head upwards and the silky fabric slid off my mouth, cascading delicately down my neck. I was lying on Connor’s bare chest, and he was asleep, on his back, with his face tilted towards mine. I gazed up at him, and took in every detail of his neck, his full mouth, his nose and his long dark eyelashes. They fluttered delicately and a gentle sigh escaped from between his lips. I was afraid to breathe for fear that I’d wake him, he looked completely peaceful.
I continued to visually inspect the curves of his upper body, starting from his neck, where I could see his pulse beating steadily under the skin just below his ear to the hollowed space between his collar bones. My eyes traveled along his pectoral muscles, pausing to take in the perfect roundness of one of his nipples. Below my left hand I could feel the edge of his ribcage and I lightly slid my palm down to his navel and rested it there. His chest lifted slightly below my cheek and I glanced up at him. His pale blue eyes blinked sleepily at me.
I leaned my hips into his and shifted so that I could prop both my arms on his chest. We smiled at each o
ther as his hand slipped up the back of my shirt.
“Morning,” he said with a grin.
“Hi,” I replied with a giggle as his fingers tickled their way teasingly up my spine. When his hand reached the back of my neck he gently squeezed and then buried his fingertips into my hair. I felt the muscles in his abs flex and tighten as he leaned his head down to me and kissed the end of my nose.
Zoey ruined the moment when she jumped onto the bed at our sides and began licking every exposed limb she could find. We groaned and shivered as the blankets slid off our bodies and scolded the dog good-naturedly as she climbed across our heads and attempted to bury herself underneath the pillows. Her wagging tail hit the padded headboard with a rhythmic whacking sound and I rolled off Connor onto my knees after I told her I got the hint.
Connor sat up and grabbed my hips and said playfully, “You’re not getting up yet.”
“No?” I teased.
“Not without this.” He murmured as his fingers stroked my face and his hand darted up my shirt again. He leaned into me and crushed his lips to mine, kissing me deeply and leaving me breathless.
***
By the time we emerged from the room, the persistent rain had turned into a full blown thunderstorm, and each time the sky boomed the dog yelped and circled the suite nervously. We opened the windows, pushing the heavy fabric aside to reveal an angry sky, full of pregnant clouds that were continuously punctured by the sharp bursts of crooked lightening, releasing a torrential downpour on the city below. I loved thunderstorms, we had them rarely, but witnessing one twenty floors above the ground was overwhelming. I watched from behind the thick glass as nature lashed out all around us. The wind howled and buffeted the building and the temperature inside felt as if it had dropped to just above freezing. I shivered in my robe, even with Connor’s shirt and a spare pair of his pajama pants on, I was cold.
He came up behind me and kissed the back of my neck lightly and I let myself smile and enjoy the moment. We had crossed a line the night before and although I was prepared for things to be awkward the next day, it was the opposite. I felt comfortable and happy with him and I could tell he felt the same way too. We shared an unspoken need for each other, a craving of sorts, and for the time being, I welcomed it.
He handed me a steaming mug. I deeply inhaled the subtle honey and green tea aroma and wrapped my hands around the ceramic to warm my fingers.
“I love this weather.” He said, embracing me from behind.
I sighed. “Me too.”
I moved to the sofa and buried myself into the oversized pillows while Connor turned on the electric fireplace and the rain drop chandelier above the dining table. The previous evening’s events rushed back to me when I saw the flowers.
“Connor, should we go next door and check on Mariah?” I asked him after I took a sip of my hot tea.
He was in the kitchen and turned to face me, and even in the soft glow of the suite I could see the discolored mark on his jaw.
“I don’t want to see Matt, do you?” He asked me.
“No.” I continued to slowly sip my drink, being careful not to scald my tongue. I watched Connor move around the kitchen, preparing a pot on the small glass top stove. He poured dry oatmeal into it and put the lid on. When he joined me on the sofa, he set his own cup of tea down on the coffee table.
“I’m sure she will make her way over here eventually,” he said with no attempt to hide his disdain.
“Should we talk about it?” I moved the hot mug around in my hands.
“There isn’t much to say. I hit him…he hit me…he’s a tool.” He paused, before leaning into me and then said, “And you are beautiful.” He kissed me gently. The faint taste of honey passed between our lips.
The room had begun to warm from the fireplace and Zoey had stretched out in front of it. When Connor sat next to me she began to thump her tail against the ground. She didn’t want to go out in the rain but it was obvious she was done waiting for her potty break.
After Connor returned to the kitchen I went to my room and changed into my jeans. I wasn’t ready yet to take off his shirt, so I decided to leave it on, even though it was snug around my chest and the material was thin enough to see my bra. After pulling on some socks and my shoes I searched around for my sweatshirt and carried it out into the sitting room. Connor wasn’t in the kitchen anymore. Zoey rushed over to me and whined.
“I’m taking Zoey out, I’ll be right back,” I said loudly.
“Just a sec, I’ll come with you.” He hollered from his room. When he joined us at the door he was wearing jeans and a hoodie. He gestured at the V-neck shirt I still had on and said to me with a laugh, “It looks much better on you.”
I went up on my tip-toes and planted a kiss on his mouth, “So, you don’t mind if I keep it on for the day?” I slipped into my sweatshirt and opened the door. The windows at the ends of the hall did little to help light up the walkway since the clouds outside had swallowed up the sunlight. We walked quickly and quietly past the room next door and pushed the call button when we reached the elevator. I waited nervously for the doors to open. I half-expected Matt to come barreling out of his room wielding an empty whisky bottle above his head as a weapon, but we stepped into the elevator without being seen.
The hotel lobby was freezing, and it was even colder outside. Water was rushing down the street gutters, overflowing the sidewalk in places. I thought to myself we needed the rain, California always needed rain, but also considered the fact that not having an infrastructure in place meant no one would be around to help move downed trees and repair flooded roads. I considered this while Zoey ran out to her patch of grass and did her business. She came back to us shaking the rain from her drenched coat.
We took the elevator back upstairs and talked about the weather, and the damage it was most likely creating to the roads we planned on taking into East County. I thought of the resort, and what condition it was in, or if it would even be standing when we found our way to it. Surely if it was built in the mountains it would be designed to withstand rain, wind and even snow. I held onto that hope as we made our way quietly down the hall to our suite.
The rest of the day was spent either on the sofa in each other’s arms, or in the kitchen organizing and setting things aside for the journey we agreed to take after the storm subsided. We never heard from Matt or Mariah and by the time the day ended, shrouding the hotel in darkness again, my curiosity got the better of me, and against Connor’s wishes I went next door and knocked for almost five minutes. When no one answered, I got down on my knees and peered through the gap below the door. The floor looked empty except for one of Mariah’s high heeled shoes, knocked over on its side, near the sofa. I doubted they would have left in the rain and Mariah didn’t seem the type to leave without her shoes, so I relaxed a bit and went back to the suite.
We had a simple dinner of rice, black beans and mixed veggies from a can, and afterwards I offered to help Connor pack his things. While we worked, we listened to Connor’s MP3 player that was docked into its own speaker system. From his room we began filling a large suitcase with his warmest clothes and an extra pair of shoes. We used his second suitcase for canned goods, packaged foods and bathroom necessities and tucked some candles that Connor had found into the gaps. We set the bulging suitcases on the floor of the sitting room, returned to Connor’s room and plopped down on his bed, exhausted. Augustana was playing in the background and as I listened to the lyrics of Boston I laughed at the sheer irony of the song’s words. No one knew my name anymore. Life was starting over, whether I wanted it to, or not.
The rain was still falling outside but it had softened and lost most of its fury. The wind had also changed, instead of violently slamming into the building with vehemence, it whistled around the window lethargically. The air smelled cleaner and fresher and soon the only light in the room was a soft flicker from a single candle. The Script was playing a mellow beat and the soulful buzz of Danny O’Donoghue’s vo
ice echoed around the room.
I rolled onto my side and looked at Connor, who was on his back, his hands linked behind his head, with his eyes closed. At first I thought he was asleep, until he turned and fixed his gaze on me. Shadows danced around his face from the candle flame making it hard to see his features, but I watched as a single tear glimmered down his cheek and disappeared into the curve of his ear.
When he spoke his voice was tight with emotion, “I think my son is dead.”
For a moment I thought my blood stilled in my veins. I sat upright and kneeled close to him. “Where is he?” My body was shaking.
“I don’t know.” He looked away, up at the ceiling. My stomach twisted in knots as I waited for him to elaborate.
Eventually he continued, “He was with his mother, spending the month with her family in London. He’s with her a lot because of my work. We never married.” He paused to look at me and I nodded for him to go on. “The last time I talked to her, she said all International flights were grounded, hospitals from Britain to China were reporting cases of an illness called the Red Death to the media. The Governments started calling it the Cardinal Plague because of how bloody the death is.” He stopped again, his voice wavering and I remembered the reports I had heard myself with the same names. “Her father was sick. It was in their home, Riley; it made its way across the oceans to my son.”
I sat perfectly still beside him, stunned, even though I wanted to run into the bathroom and vomit.
The early days of the virus flashed through my mind. When I couldn’t get my children into the hospital down the street from my house, I brought them home and put them in bed. I did everything I could to stop the fevers, but nothing worked. I kept the television on to watch the news. Regular programming was suspended and the only channels broadcasting were the major news stations. The images of the sick flooding hospitals and swarming airports was the same all over the country, the written messages appearing at the base of each station kept repeating one statement: The President has declared a National State Of Emergency. Officials at the CDC have asked all civilians to remain in their homes and to limit all contact with the public. All Military personnel must report to duty. Hospital Staff or those with Medical training are asked to report to their closest Hospital or Clinic. I knew my own children were dying by then and when the Emergency Broadcast System showed only a bright blue screen on the TV. I turned it off. I left a battery operated radio on in the kitchen but eventually most of the channels became constant static or continuous tones and I shut it off as well. I was numb when my children died. For me it didn’t matter if the rest of the World died with them because to me they were my everything.
I Hope You Find Me Page 10
