Launi

Slowly, I come back down to earth. My heart is racing, and my head is spinning. The world around me feels distorted and surreal. I would have let him do whatever he wanted to me in that elevator and that thought is terrifying. I don't make good decisions around this man, and somehow even knowing that I wish we could press the button and close the doors again no matter the future cost.

"Good evening," a member of the security team greets us.

"Good evening," Rye answers. He clears his throat in the silence that follows, and I wonder if it's as obvious as it feels that we were just hooking up in there.

"Need any help finding your rooms?" he asks us.

Rye looks to me with an innocent smile. "I think we can manage," he says, but pauses so I can argue if I want.

"Yea, I think I can find it," I agree.

The guard puts his hand in the elevator to make sure the doors don't slide shut again. We step out and into the brightly decorated hallway. The entire band will be on this floor tonight, along with some of the road crew and the bus driver. Our rooms are at the end of the hallway.

"This one is you," Rye says, stopping for a brief second in front of my room. The nonchalant way he is moving would give nothing away to security. "Mine should be down there." He steps past me, because in any normal situation he wouldn't be coming into my room, and I watch as he takes a few strides. His head stills at the door next to mine. He glances across the hallway and then back to his door. With a small nod of his head as if something has just dawned on him, he looks back at me.

"They alternate sides," he says.

I'm confused. I still don't entirely feel like I'm thinking straight and the blood still rushing through my body is neglecting its route to my brain.

"The even rooms are over there," he tells me, pointing across to room number 916. He chuckles low and says, "We'll share a wall."

I get it now. Tonight, he and I will sleep with only a wall separating the two of us. It's more than we have in the bus, but also less somehow. In the bus we can account for band members between us, maybe not physically, but the chance they would hear or see something kept us separate. In this hotel, the band is scattered in all the individual rooms, and we'll have to fall asleep with the knowledge that we're both in bed—separated by a thin wall of plaster.

"Looks like it," I tell him, pulling my key from the envelope tucked in my waistband.

He leans over and quietly whispers, "I had hoped for my sake it would be an entire room."

I laugh. The ding of the elevator alerts us to more people arriving. Rye straightens up and pulls out his own key. We both begin to slip the keys inside the fob as if nothing has happened. I hear my dad's loud voice booming as he steps off the elevator.

"Anyone want to come over for a drink?" he asks, waiving around his room key.

Eric raises his hand. "Let me get some meds for this damn knee then I'll come over."

"I'm going to get some sleep," Rye says.

I don't bother responding. My dad knows I'm not a big drinker.

"I'll stop by," another member tells him. "Let me shower first.

"I feel bad for anyone else staying on this floor," my dad says. "We'll have people running this hall all night."

Rye glances at me. Any chance that he and I were going to sneak around is out. Which is for the best. With everyone coming in and out of their rooms at all different hours, swapping rooms would be risky. Rye shrugs as if to say, there goes that, and then opens his door. I do the same with my own.

The room is dark, so I find the switch on the wall. My items have already been brought in, and I need to remember to thank the crew for being so great about all of this. They're treating me like royalty and one of the band members when really, I've don't nothing but be born into this life. They work so hard for my dad and the rest of Free Pony.

I take a few steps into the newly lit room and come to a dead stop. There's a door. It's painted the same as the room entrance and is located between the closet and the large dresser on the wall. There's a chain latch as well as a deadbolt and I wonder for a second why they would even put a door here if they needed it to be so secure. Then the thought dawns on me, the door is separating my room from Rye's. He most likely has one of his own on the other side.

I look to the front of the room, wondering who might be outside in the hallway. It feels risky and dangerous to crack open the door and see if Rye is feeling the same way. I could make a smart decision; I could keep the door shut and not invite any trouble or complications. The best move would be to get my clothes from my bag, spread my toiletries out on the bathroom sink, take a hot shower and then settle into bed.

My phone vibrates in my bra.

Parker: How's my friend the nun?

Me: Not feeling very holy

Parker: Yesssss

Parker: I knew you couldn't do it

Me: This isn't helping.

I feel hot. My skin is flushed and I'm not sure if there is enough air in the room. I toss my phone onto the bed and crank on the AC. I stand in front of it for a minute, letting the cool breeze rush over my heated flesh. It's doing very little to cool down the warmth I have pooling between my legs. I can still feel his hand there. I close my eyes, trying to push the memory away, but it only makes it more vivid. His face next to fine, the sound of the air being sucked through his teeth as I touched him as if each brush of my fingers along his shaft was pure pleasure.

What is it about elevators and men with tattoos that make women lose their minds? I gather my hair and twist it up off my neck, hoping it will help to drop my temperature. I need to stay on this side of the door. I can make it through the night. I'll just put on a movie, maybe a beauty mask for my face and get some rest. No more small spaces with Rye.

I shut my eyes again, and this time I feel his palm on my thigh, and the way he seems to know his way around my body already.

"Stop, Launi," I scold myself. These thoughts aren't helping.

I sit on the bed, the fluffy softness of the comforter beneath my thighs and stare at the door that separates us. I can hear voices in the hall, doors opening and closing, but my eyes stay focused on the barrier between his room and mine.

How will I ever do anything if there's a chance we could open these doors and finish what we started in the elevator? I lay back, staring up at the ceiling. We can't. We can't do this. It would be stupid and risky. And yet, the thought of him in my room, over me with those beautiful biceps makes all the risk seem worth it. I kick my feet in frustration.

I don't even know that he'll want the door open. Maybe the heat has worn off on his side. There's a chance he has a clear head now, one not fogged by close proximity. He could even be over there making plans to have a different girl come over. Tinsley might be on her way as I lay here. Silly me to assume I would be what he wants when he has so many more options.

Sitting back up, I watch the door for any signs of movement on the other side. When I see nothing, obviously because it's not a see-through door, I decide I need to have a listen. I walk over carefully, trying my hardest to be quiet so he doesn't hear me approaching. I press my ear up against it, not really knowing what I'm expecting to hear on the other side.

From the hallway, another door opens, and a loud whistle pierces the air. I can hear a few men laughing and whistling back. It really is alike a bunch of high school boys on a field trip.

The walls in this place must be very thin. I hear loud music coming from Rye's side. It increases in volume until the noise outside can't be heard. I press closer to the door, trying to imagine what he's doing in there. The frustration I'm feeling is oppressive. I'm going mad with the idea of what he could be doing. Is he in the shower? Or maybe he's already laying on his bed. Will he have taken off his clothes to get comfortable? Oh god, the thought of naked Rye on his bed is so hot I can't help but to reach down and take the doorknob in my hand. I rest my forehead on the cold door, hoping the coolness will calm me down and keep me from spinning it open.

I swear I can smell him. The rich body wash he uses and the cologne like a magic potion that brings heat to my nerve endings. I lean back, thoughts warm and like liquid, swirling and floating in my head. My fingers find the chain, and I carefully slide it open. I'm trying my hardest to not make a sound. My breath is held, and the movement of my hand is steady and smooth. I gently place the end of the chain against the door, making sure it doesn't rock against the wood.

My mouth feels dry with anticipation. I swallow once, and begin to turn the knob. I take my time, and at the end of the task which feel like it took five minutes, the door cracks open from its frame. I take a step back, willing myself one last time to make a better decision, but it's futile. I'm drawn to him and if I didn't open this door, I'd never sleep tonight.

As the door swings open, I find Rye standing on his side, his eyes staring into mine with such an intensity I fear I might burn up. His jaw is clenched, and one arm is holding him up against the frame as if he's been waiting for my arrival.

"Took you long enough," he says, his eyes not leaving mine as he straightens up.

'I wasn't sure I was going to open it," I say.

His brows lift and then fall and he smirks as if to express doubt in my statement. I should be mad at that, but I'm not thinking straight.

"Ok, Launi," he says low and dripping with sexiness. "If that's your story."

I nod and he dips his chin giving me a look of disbelief.

"I guess I'm the only one with bad ideas," he says, reaching for my hip and sliding his palm beneath my shirt. I don't answer him. I'm speechless. Instead, I close my eyes and focus on the way his hand flames the desire I feel like gasoline on a fire. "It's probably a good thing I have a lot of bad ideas," he tells me before pulling my willing body against his.

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