THE ARRIVAL OF room service afforded me the opportunity to duck into the bathroom, blow my nose and wash my face. Somewhat regrouped, I still worried about being so transparent with a man as tempting as Lucky in an arrangement that had a rapidly approaching expiration date. I emerged to discover the delivery person gone and the desk converted into a dining table for two. Lucky stood beside it wearing only his jeans and those hanging low enough on his hips to rekindle my desire and make my heart skip a beat.
"Mademoiselle. Breakfast is served." He gestured toward the more comfortable of the chairs, the high backed upholstered one I had unraveled in only moments before. "May I assist you into your seat?"
I nodded and smiled at him. Seeking to lighten the mood, his gesture eased the tight band of trepidation circling my chest. He pulled back the chair for me and scooted it into place after I took my seat. He deposited a napkin into my lap with a flourish like a waiter in a formal restaurant, then leaned over the back of my chair.
"Lips, please," he said, and I tipped my head to look up at him. He placed a soft but devastatingly sweet kiss on my mouth. My heart skipped happy, and I savored the additional treat of watching the sexy lead singer saunter to his own place opposite mine.
"Stop being so cute and sexy," I teased. Reaching for the coffee pot, I started to pour him a cup, but remembered that he preferred tea. He had consumed copious amounts of it during the interview on the bus. Spotting the hot water and the packets of Earl Grey I began preparing it while he watched me. "What?" I asked when I noted his bemused smile.
"Stop being so adorable and sexy," he semi-repeated.
My smile widened. Oh, how easily I could fall for him if I were the type of girl who believed in that sort of thing anymore. After a lingering across the table stare, we fell into our food. Eggs. Bacon. Toast. Pastries. The works. We were both starving, though he definitely had a bigger appetite. He peppered me with questions while we ate. We talked about my friendship with Marsha. Mostly about her acting as a co-conspirator in my many misguided stunts in high school, like the stripping skit that had almost gotten me expelled, though I hadn’t removed more than a single glove.
He revealed how his mates had helped him choose the name for the band. The Chinese dragon symbolized power and luck, a fact I hadn’t known. Considering the man who sat across from me, the name seemed to be a perfect fit.
"Tell me about you and Alec. I know he's your best friend but I don’t know the details."
He wiped his mouth with his napkin. Not a bit of food remained on the table. He had finished everything down to the last bite. Tossing the napkin to the right of his plate, he picked up his tea cup and settled back in the desk chair peering over the rim of it as he took a sip.
"What exactly do you want to know?" The porcelain clattered as he set his cup back in the saucer.
"How did you meet?" I asked.
"Well," he mused. "I guess you’ve noticed that Alec is a bit compulsive?"
I nodded.
"He used to be even worse."
My eyes widened.
"Yeah." He exhaled a short breath through his nose. "Wire rimmed glasses spotlessly clean. Impeccably pressed trousers. Bow tie perfectly straight. Contents of his backpack arranged just so. And he went absolutely mad if anyone fiddled with any of it. One day some kids did."
"What happened?" I leaned my elbows of the table enchanted by the story, imagining what Lucky had been like as a boy.
"The boys who messed with him didn’t appreciate Alec tattling to the teacher. A few of them cornered him after school. I saw that the odds needed evening a bit. Together, we more than held our own."
"How old were you?” I asked
“Ten," he replied. “Or maybe eleven.”
"Were you always so protective?"
"How do you mean?"
"Seems like you’re always coming to the rescue or defending someone’s honor."
"Ah." His eyes began to glitter like polished aquamarine gems. "You see me as a hero type?"
I nodded. “Definitely.”
"I like that. I like that a lot, but the truth is I'm no hero, Angel. I’m just someone who doesn’t tolerate seeing others get bullied."
"Just so," I said, noticing that the light in the room had brightened considerably while we had been talking. The sun would be up soon, and our time together was running out.
"What's wrong?” he asked, my expression no doubt betraying me. “You look pensive all of a sudden."
"You didn't tell me about why you and Alec have stayed friends so long."
"Because of all the shit we've been through together, and because he has remained true to himself through it all. Honest. Loyal. OCD sure. But he's family. Friends are like the family you get to choose. Right?"
"Yes." Marsha was that for me.
"Now don’t imagine that I’m so easily deflected. What’s going on? I had you smiling only a moment ago."
"I know. You’ve done that and more. But it’s about time I should go." I stood, tossed my napkin on the table, turned to the window behind me and wrapped my arms around myself when I saw how high the sun peeked over the horizon. Warm hands settled on my shoulders, and I reached to cover and press them down more firmly into my skin, a last moment to savor his touch.
"Raven, we should talk." He turned me toward him. His fingers wrapped around my upper arms. His brow dipped. His serious look. My stomach clenched. Then the room phone rang. Wound tightly, I jumped at the sound. It jangled again.
"Fuck." Lucky squeezed my shoulders. "I need to get that. Stay right there." He crossed to the phone in a couple of strides. "Hello?" I knew immediately that it was bad news. His spine snapped completely straight, the tattooed dragon threatening to launch from the bunched muscles at his back. "What hospital?"