FULL NOVELXO Chapter 9
By the time we’re dropped off at the hotel, all I want to do is stand under the spray of a nice hot shower. Unlike Colby, I enjoy traveling. I’ve been flying all over the country for years. The time I’ve spent at Western is the longest I’ve stayed in one place in almost a decade. Once discovered, I rocketed into the public eye. And then the show made our family a household name.
As I make my way to the reception desk, it occurs to me that I don’t really miss the constant hustle and bustle. The crazy schedules.
The group stares around them while oohing and aahing over the grandness of the lobby. Crystal chandeliers drip from high above, casting kaleidoscopic constellations across the gleaming marble floors. You can’t help but feel the anticipation as it hums in the air.
This isn’t my first trip to Vegas. I’m usually here a couple times a year for parties that the studio hosts.
It’s all part of the gig.
I tug at my jacket. It had been freezing when we boarded the plane early this morning but in Vegas, the temperature is in the low sixties. It’ll be nice to shed some of my outerwear for the weekend and soak up some sunshine. The seasonal weather is probably the only thing I miss about California.
Wolf and Fallyn are the first in line to secure their room. Next is Juliette and Ryder. And then Carina and Ford. Stella and Riggs along with Viola and Madden check in and are handed room keys. Only now does it occur to me that I’m the lone girl on this trip. I probably should have realized it earlier. Maverick, Hayes, Bridger and Colby booked a suite together.
On the plane, Colby waggled his brows as he offered to let me bunk with him so I wouldn’t be all by my lonesome.
I shot down that idea before it was fully out of his mouth.
When it’s my turn, I step up to the long stretch of counter and give my name. The woman standing behind it smiles and taps a few keys before securing my credit card.
Since the guys are checking in next to me, I can’t help but overhear their conversation.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the receptionist says to Bridger. “There appears to be a problem with your reservation. The only room we have available for the weekend is one with two twin beds.”
Hayes stares in dismay at Maverick, who pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m not sleeping on the floor, dude. You can forget that idea right now.”
“There’s nothing else available?” Colby asks the employee. “We were supposed to have a four-bedroom suite.”
The man assisting them makes a big show of striking the keys on his computer before shaking his head. “I’m afraid not.” His expression brightens. “But we can bring a rollaway to your room free of charge.”
Maverick, Colby, Bridger, and Hayes glance at each other and frown. I can almost see them doing the mental math and figuring out that it doesn’t add up.
“That’s only three beds for four of us,” Bridger says. “Is it possible to add a second rollaway?”
The clerk shakes his head. “Sorry, no. There isn’t enough square footage. It’s against code—fire hazard. Perhaps there’s someone else in your party who wouldn’t mind sharing their room?”
“There’s no way in hell I’m bunking with my sister and Ryder,” Maverick grumbles. “I’d rather fly back home than listen to them get it on. It would be psychologically damaging for all concerned.”
“I don’t know, man. I wouldn’t mind it,” Hayes says with a grin.
Maverick punches him in the arm.
“Fuck, dude. That hurt,” the blond attackman says with a laugh.
“Good.”
“Hey, Britt—”
Before Colby can even get the rest out, I shake my head. I see where this is going from a mile away and want no part of it.
“Absolutely not.”
“It would solve the problem,” he cajoles, jerking a thumb at his three teammates. “They can share a room, and I’ll shack up with you.”
“There’s only a king,” I tell him. “And we’re not sleeping in the same bed.”
Mr. Helpful behind the counter types away while staring at the computer screen. “Actually, that room comes with a pullout couch.”
I glare. “Thanks for sharing.”
He beams, clearly not comprehending sarcasm when he hears it. “No problem. It’s important that all our guests are happy.”
“Then you’ve failed miserably,” I grumble.
Colby steeples his hands before giving me sad puppy dog eyes. “Please, Britt. I’ll sleep on the couch and stay out of your way. You won’t even know I’m there.”
Ha!
“That’s doubtful.”
All he has to do is enter a room and I’m hyperaware of his presence.
It’s a problem.
“Listen,” Maverick cuts in, jerking a thumb in his teammate’s direction. “If you don’t want to bunk with this guy, I’ll sleep on your couch.”
Colby shoots him a death glare as a hard edge creeps into his tone. It’s not one I’ve heard from him before. “Wanna bet, McKinnon?”
Juliette’s brother flashes a grin as his expression turns downright giddy. “Actually, I think the decision is up to Britt. Not you.”
When Colby narrows his eyes and takes a step toward the younger player, I slap my palm against his chest to hold him at bay. A shiver of awareness slides through me at the steely muscles that bunch beneath his sweatshirt.
“Fine,” I mutter. “You can stay in my room.”
Deep down inside, I know it’s a decision I’ll end up regretting.
Hell, it’s only been thirty seconds and I already wish I’d kept my mouth shut.
The thick tension vibrating off him in suffocating waves dissipates as his gaze shifts to mine. “Are you sure?”
Nope. Not even a little.
“Is there really a choice in the matter?” I fire back.
One side of his mouth quirks. “Of course there is. You can do anything other than share a room with one of these guys.”
Instead of responding, I turn to the clerk who had been assisting me. “Can I get another keycard for the room, please?”
“Absolutely,” she says.
“And I’ll have a bottle of our best champagne brought up for your trouble,” the man helping the guys adds as if that will make the situation better.
“Great.”
After everyone in our group is checked in, we pile into the elevators to our assigned floors. None of them are the same—some are even in different towers. We agree to meet downstairs in two hours to grab dinner and enjoy the nightlife.
As soon as we step inside the room, Colby releases a low whistle.
All right…so maybe it’s not just a room. More of a king suite with eight hundred square feet of living space.
His gaze bounces around the beautifully decorated interior. “Damn…this is really nice.”
“It was the only thing available when we booked,” I mumble.
“Must have cost a pretty penny.” He slants a speculative look in my direction as he strolls further inside the suite. “I have to admit—I’m having a tough time figuring you out, Britt.”
The nonchalant comment has a boulder the size of Rhode Island taking up residence at the bottom of my belly. It’s the last thing I want him to do.
I gravitate toward the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the Strip. At night, it’ll be a million-dollar view of the city spread out before us.
“There’s nothing to figure out.” It takes effort to keep the quiver from my voice.
Air gets clogged in my lungs as I hold my breath, waiting to see if he’ll press the issue and dig for answers.
“You mind if I jump in the shower? I feel gross after that plane ride.”
Relief floods through me, nearly weakening my knees. Even though I’d been thinking the same thing, I have no problem waiting if it means putting an end to this uncomfortable convo.
“Be my guest.”
It’s the whisper of shed clothing that has me whipping around to find a bare-chested Colby standing in front of me. As much as I don’t want to stare, my gaze roves over him, dipping to his chiseled pecs.
Holy hell.
The man looks more like he was carved from marble than is made up of flesh and bone. I’ve been with my fair share of male models as well as professional athletes over the years, and he puts them all to shame.
It’s so tempting to close the distance between us and stroke my hands over all those rigidly held muscles.
And his abs…
If I’m counting correctly, he has an eight pack.
My eyes widen when his hands settle at the waistband of his joggers.
“Don’t—”
Too late.
The gray fabric gets shoved down powerful thighs and well-defined calves before he kicks it away. And then he’s standing in nothing more than a pair of form-fitting black boxer briefs that hug every sinewy muscle.
Did I say holy hell already?
Well, I’m saying it again.
Holy hell.
No man should look this good.
My gaze rises from his legs that would give tree trunks a run for their money until it settles on his package. That’s all it takes for my mouth to turn bone dry until swallowing becomes an impossibility.
He’s, um…big.
Like, really big.
Fun fact—the longer I stare, the more of a rise I get out of him.
Pun intended.
Heat crawls up my cheeks as arousal pools in my core like warmed honey. It takes effort to drag my gaze away and stare out the window. The spectacular view does nothing for me. In fact, I don’t even see it.
All I see is Colby.
“You should take that shower so I can do the same.” As unaffected as I want to sound, nothing could be further from the truth. Even I can hear the thick tension vibrating in my voice like a live wire.
“Or,” he says conversationally, “we could conserve both time and water by showering together.”
I give him a bit of side eye. It seems like the safest option considering that I just went a little stupid when looking directly at him.
I keep my tone clipped. “No thanks.”
He shrugs before rifling through his duffle. “You sure there’s no way I can convince you to do your part and help save the planet?”
“I’m good.”
“Your loss.”
Probably.
With that, he swings around, sauntering into the bathroom like he doesn’t have a care in the world. As soon as he turns away, my head whips around to watch him. And yeah, his backside is just as firm and fine as the front. I wilt as soon as the lock on the bathroom door clicks into place.
How the hell am I going to share space with this guy for the entire weekend?
I squeeze my eyes shut and repeat my new mantra.
I will not complicate my life.
I will not complicate my life.
I will not complicate my life.
Because that’s exactly what Colby McNichols is.
A complication.