Catching Whitney (3 page)

Aidan nods and stands up, holding his hand out for mine. I take it, realizing I just made his hand sticky or did he make mine sticky… I’m not sure anymore.

We stroll toward the door, and he waves at Mabel. “Thanks for the great service! We’ll be sure to come back on our next anniversary!”

I stifle a laugh as he pulls me through the door. Once we are out in the parking lot, we both start laughing hysterically. I’m practically doubled over and gasping for air. He regains his composure before I do and unlocks his car, then opens the door for me. “After you, Master Cat Wrangler.”

I sit inside, trying to touch as little as possible until I can wash my hands. He settles in the driver’s seat and starts the car. “My hotel isn’t far.” Then he turns to me. “But I understand if you want to go back to the bar instead. That’s what I’d do if I were a beautiful woman stuck with a man she barely knows.”

I look at him for a moment. My brain screams at me that he’s making sense. I should just go back to the bar. But my heart… Dammit, my heart wants to spend more time with Aidan, even if it’s only a few more stolen moments. The fact that we are going to a hotel room has nothing at all to do with it. He’s just changing. I’m just going to wash my face. That’s all that will happen, even if he is looking at me that way. And even if he
did
just call me beautiful.

“No, it’s fine. Lindsey has your photo and license plate, remember?” I smile trying to convince him—or maybe myself—that I’m completely cool with the idea.

He smiles and backs out of the parking spot. It takes only ten minutes to reach his hotel, and again he helps me out of the car, and we enter the lobby hand-in-hand. He waves at the desk clerk as we pass by, and the look on her face is priceless. We must look like a bigger mess than I realized.

We endure a short elevator ride up to the fourth floor, with your typical annoying elevator music as the only thing breaking the silence. My nerves are trying to return, so I mentally envision myself stomping on them violently. I’m having more fun than I’ve had in years and I’m not about to let my stupid anxieties ruin it. The doors open and I follow Aidan down the hall where he stops at door number 425. He slides in the key, then sweeps his arm out in front of him. “After you.”

I enter the lavish room and realize it’s actually an executive suite.
Damn. No wonder he doesn’t want to be someone else. He’s doing pretty good as himself
. Then I realize he never answered my question about his alter ego. He’s not getting out of that so easily. I will push the issue once we clean up. I gave him a stupid answer, and I expect a totally ridiculous one in return. It’s only fair.

He flips the light on in the bathroom. “Clean towels are on the rack, and there are new soap and washrags near the sink. Help yourself while I get changed.”

I step inside the bathroom and turn on the water. I lather up my hands and rub them over my face, then scrub it clean with the water and rag. It’s only after I’ve rinsed my face that I realize I just removed most of my makeup.
Oh damn. Why didn’t I think about that? I have a little in my purse, but not enough to redo my whole face
. I sigh and wet the washcloth again. Then I carefully work it through some strands of hair hanging near my face. It’s not as great as washing the syrup out, but it’ll have to do. I dry my face, pull the damp hair behind my ears, and then attempt to save my makeup. I have some eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss; that’s going to have to be good enough. The man has seen me stuff pancakes in my cheeks like a starving chipmunk; surely he can handle a mostly makeup free face. I stand up straight, trying to locate my backbone once more, and look at my reflection. Not too bad.
I’ve certainly looked worse.
I whisper to myself, “All right, Whitney, you’ve proven you have a backbone. Now go in there and act normal. It’s just a little makeup or lack thereof.”

I open the door and step out, flipping the light switch off as I go. When I step into the main part of the room, Aidan is standing there with a shirt in his hands, but not one on his chest. He’s insanely muscled, and I catch my eyes drifting to places I’d prefer they wouldn’t. Wandering eyes lead to wandering thoughts, and that’s not why we are here. I clear my throat and try to think of something to say. I blurt out, “Hey, you never gave me your answer. You promised you’d have it for me before we finished our pancakes.”

He looks at me intensely, then tosses the shirt on a nearby table and takes a step toward me. When he’s within touching distance, he smiles. “I’ve decided I want to be the man that fell in love at first sight. He adores and worships her. He loves that she can eat a short stack faster than him. And, she wrangles cats when she’s not teaching.”

He reaches for me, and I seem to have no control over my body as I let him pull me closer. I laugh a little nervously and in a low voice I say, “I think it was really more a tie. We both quit halfway through the pancakes.”

Aidan reaches up and tucks a stray, damp strand back behind my ear, and then his thumb rubs across my freshly-scrubbed cheek. He trails it down my face and then cups my jaw gently. “I decided I was hungry for something else.” I close my eyes and feel those butterflies start to work into a frenzy.
He wants me? He really wants me?
I struggle to believe that he’s truly attracted to someone as plain and boring as me. As my confidence battles with my insecurities, I realize that he hasn’t actually kissed me yet. I open my eyes to find him close but watching me intently.

“Whitney,” he says my name like a caress, and my knees nearly buckle. He brings his other hand up to frame my face and gazes into my eyes. “Will you let me worship you tonight?” He moves his right hand from my face and uses it to pick up my left hand, and then he places my open palm against his bare chest; his heartbeat is strong and steady. I can feel the warmth under my fingers, and I fight the urge to run them down his torso.

He leans in closer and puts his lips near my ear. “Do you feel that, Whitney? That spark? That something that pulls at our souls and demands that our bodies get closer?”

I swallow hard, then nod. “Yes, I feel it.” Again, my words come out as more of a whisper.

He places a gentle kiss just below my ear, and I shiver. My hand instinctively flexes over his muscled chest while the other hand reaches up to rest on his shoulder. He places another feather-light kiss on my neck. I fight the urge to wrap my arms around him.
Is this what I want? Do I want to have sex with this man I hardly know?
This isn’t me. This isn’t the Whitney that thinks out her decisions and carefully plans every step of her life.
But maybe, just for tonight, I’m
not
that Whitney
. I’m the version that has a gorgeous man standing in front of me, all but begging to give me a night I’ll never forget.
And I’m sure I’ll never forget it
. Not only is he the kind of man I fantasize about, but he seems to have awoken a side of me I didn’t know existed. The side that’s bubbling to the surface and promising that if I give in, I’ll no longer be the queen of boring sex. I feel the compulsion to participate actively- to be adventurous and bold. It’s exciting and terrifying all at once.

Aidan places another kiss in that spot where my neck and collarbone meet. I flex my fingers again, struggling to make such a monumental decision. He pulls back and places his finger under my chin, tilting my face and forcing my eyes to meet his.

“Whitney, I want you to know I don’t do this often. I swear this isn’t my usual style, but there is just something about you. From the moment I saw you walk into the bar tonight, I knew that I had to meet you. After talking with you, I found myself wanting more of you. And now all I can think about is touching you.”

I clear my throat, unsure what to do with this information.

He smiles at me. “Despite all that, I don’t want you to feel pressured. We can still walk out that door and meet up with Blaine and Lindsey. The course of the evening is totally in your hands.”

I decide that I deserve what he’s offering. I’m due an experience with a man like him - someone who, for at least one night, wants to give me the world. I know it’s all a fantasy. Tomorrow I will once again be single, boring Whitney Dawson. But for a few hours, I can shed that persona and live a little.

“Aidan, this isn’t my style, either. I don’t do one-night stands… but I want to stay here with you anyway.” I run my hands up his chest and place them behind his neck, pulling his head down to mine. “I think I need this.” Then I kiss him. It’s a nervous, careful kiss. The kind you give someone when you aren’t feeling sure about how far to go. That doesn’t last long. He deepens the kiss as he pulls me against him. He’s all hard muscles pressed against my soft curves. My mind immediately starts screaming at me that he’s going to see me naked.
Naked!
That’s a horrifying thought. But despite my self-doubt, he’s pulling at my clothes and running his hands over my body as if he can’t get the barrier of buttons, zippers, and cotton off of me fast enough.

I don’t have time to indulge my brain in a game of “which body part should I be most ashamed of first”. In what seems like a flash, my discarded clothes are on the floor next to me, and he’s sliding out of his jeans. He kicks them aside as he looks me over.

I can feel my cheeks heat as Aidan runs his eyes over me like a caress. “You’re beautiful.” He takes a small step toward me. “You’re perfect.” He takes another step, reaching me. “And tonight, you’re all mine.”

I hear buzzing—it’s an annoying sound. I crack one eye open and try to locate the source of the aggravating disturbance that woke me up. When my eye focuses, I notice I’m not in my own bedroom.
Oh no. What in the hell did I do?
I slip out of bed and locate my vibrating iPhone. It’s a text from Lindsey. I look around the room and see Aidan sleeping peacefully. I can’t believe the night we had together. It was nothing short of amazing. He’s the only man I’ve ever been with that put my needs first. He took his time, exploring every inch of my body. I blush as I remember the things I did to him as well.

I gather up my clothes and quietly enter the bathroom, carefully clicking the door shut. I quickly dress and then text Lindsey the address of the hotel with instructions that I’ll be waiting outside for her. I slip on my shoes and tip-toe out of the bathroom. Picking up my purse, I give Aidan one last look. My heart wishes there could be more, but I know I’m not destined for that kind of happy ending. I’m resigned to it. I sigh and softly and whisper “Goodbye, Aidan. Thanks for being amazing.”

I leave the room, gingerly closing the door behind me. During the short elevator ride down to the lobby, I wonder if I’ll ever see him again. I know it’s not very likely. He lives in Missouri, and I live in Indiana. We don’t even know each other’s last names. But we’ll always have a connection, thanks to tonight. When I’m feeling lonely, I’ll savor that bond like a cherished friend, even if the rational side of me will argue I was an idiot for letting it happen.

I walk through the automatic doors of the hotel and step out into the humid Illinois air. Lindsey pulls up a moment later, and I slide into the passenger seat and buckle. Then I let out a contented sigh.

Lindsey gives me a knowing smile. “So, I’m guessing you debauched yourself, despite your protests that you weren’t going to?”

I turn and smile at her. “Oh, I debauched all right. I debauched. He debauched. We debauched the hell out of that room.”

Lindsey clapped her hands gleefully. “About time! You were safe, though, right?”

“Of course. This may have been a bad idea, but I’m not a complete idiot. We used protection.”

She laughed. “Glad to hear it. Now let’s hit the hay. I’m exhausted.” She pulled out of the parking lot and drove toward our own hotel. We needed a decent night of sleep before heading home the next morning and resuming normal life.

Summer is over, and I’m sitting in my classroom, going over a list of student names. I love the beginning of a new school year. Sweet little third grade faces will soon fill each seat, full of excitement and enthusiasm. Okay, not all of them are thrilled to be there, but it’s been my general experience that those who didn’t enjoy school simply needed a different experience. I take it as a personal challenge to help those children love the process of learning. I want to send them off to fourth grade with a desire to devour knowledge. Once again my bizarre mind ventures to weird places. I envision hordes of little faces storming their fourth-grade homerooms with forks and knives, demanding to be fed education. I laugh out loud as I picture the looks on the teachers’ faces. What a funny sight that would be.