Page 15 of Fear of Flying
Zach’s heart stuttered at the joy and adrenaline, wondering just where in the world it had come from. Having their flights canceled and being snowed in at the airport in Pittsburgh ought to have been fairly upsetting, but somehow, nothing seemed very upsetting right now, with Drew by his side.
He glanced down, and the sight of Drew’s hand still holding his made his heart flutter wildly in his chest. Was there something about Drew that just... made Zach’s anxiety fade into the background? God, everything felt so charged and exciting. And how was it late afternoon during a massive snowstorm in Pittsburgh? Everything felt almost dreamlike, like he was Cinde-freaking-rella at the ball and Prince Charming only had eyes for him.
Drew let out one last breathy laugh, his gray-blue eyes twinkling, and then adjusted the strap of his messenger bag with his free hand. “Shall we get a room?”
Zach’s breath caught, and he watched Drew’s eyes go wide and his cheeks flush madly as he realized what he’d just said. Zach couldn’t breathe enough to respond, but his body had no trouble sending a deep tug of arousal straight to his groin at the implication—unintended as it may have been.
“I-I meant rooms. Get rooms. I... god, just shoot me now,” Drew said, disentangling his hand from Zach’s and then running it down his face as though he could wipe the embarrassment away.
“It’s okay, Drew. I know what you meant,” Zach assured him, though he’d been half-tempted to tease him. “C’mon. I’ll buy you another drink once we get rooms,” he said, emphasizing the S with a grin and wondering where the hell this seemingly bold and confident Zach had come from.
Drew grinned in response, the blush now fading a bit, and then side by side, they walked through the main doors to the hotel. There were a number of people milling about in the lobby, kind of a hushed chaos that was mostly congregated near the hotel’s restaurant and bar, and Zach was surprised to find he wasn’t at all anxious right now, even with the crowd.
Still in a bit of a dream state, Zach merely followed as Drew stepped up the reception desk just as the previous guest was walking away. Zach’s dreamy haze vanished in an instant when he heard the clerk say they didn’t have anything left for the night.
Damn.
Drew was tapping his fingers anxiously against his wallet and credit card, which he must have taken out and laid on the counter at some point. “Shoot... um...”
“Nothing? Really?” Zach couldn’t help but blurt out.
The clerk, whose name tag read Janice, gave him a sympathetic smile and shook her head. Then she seemed to look between Zach and Drew, appraising them, maybe? Judging them? Zach wasn’t sure, but he was following her eyes when they landed on Drew’s credit card—something black and fancy and corporate-looking.
“Um... there might actually...” Janice started but trailed off as she typed something into her computer, glancing back up at Drew afterwards. “We do have one room left, but it’s...” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “To be honest, I never feel right renting it to anyone because it’s like two grand a night on a slow day—the Presidential Suite—but I noticed... you have a company credit card out, so... if your boss is paying for it...?”
“Two grand a night?” Drew’s voice almost squeaked.
“Ah, yeah. It’s... actually more than that tonight, but I, um, I think...” Her fingers tapped in some mystery pattern on her keyboard. “Yeah, with your corporate discount there, I can knock it down to... eighteen hundred dollars. And throw in free room service for dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow—it’s easier to comp food,” she said, adding the last part in a rush.
Shit... $1800. For one night. Zach’s stomach clenched, and he closed his eyes briefly, trying to prepare himself for a night back in the airport, surrounded by thousands of people and noises. It wasn’t the end of the world, losing a night of sleep as he likely would, but... Zach opened his eyes and glanced at his companion. Drew looked over at him, an awkward smile on his face, and that uncomfortable racing of his heart at the thought of being stranded in the airport morphed back into something much, much more pleasant.
“Do you mind that it’s only one room?” Drew asked, his eyes soft.
But before Zach could balk at the cost of it, Janice piped up. “It’s more like an apartment. Huge—plenty of space and couches, one of which pulls out into a bed.”
Drew smiled at her and then looked back at Zach. “Then it’s all good, right?”
“I, um... I wouldn’t be able to afford half of that,” Zach whispered. “I couldn’t justify that... I-I... Did I mention I work for a nonprofit organization because—”
Drew’s hand on his shoulder interrupted him mid-sentence. “Don’t worry about it,” Drew said softly. “The law firm of Vanderwall, Stockton, and Peters will hardly bat an eye at it—plus, they’d be paying for it whether you’re in the room or not.”
Although Drew seemed to try to smile and shrug it off, Zach could hear more than a touch of cynicism and weariness in Drew’s voice. His hand dropped from Zach’s shoulder, and he turned to give Janice his corporate card.
Zach waited by Drew’s side, his mind reeling a bit as Drew completed the registration process. Just what would a night in the Presidential Suite be like? And what would it be like to share a room with a total stranger? He really had no idea, but as his mind replayed the last few hours they’d spent together, Zach quickly realized that for some reason, Drew didn’t feel at all like a stranger. Any reservations he might have had about sharing a room overnight—especially a room that was apparently gigantic—faded, replaced by an eagerness he’d never really known until today.
A gentle touch on his arm brought Zach out of his thoughts, and he looked over at Drew, who was holding two room keys and what seemed to be two complimentary toiletry bags in one hand. “Ready?” he asked, his eyes sparkling and the smile that Zach was starting to crave growing wide across his face.
Zach could only nod, shifting the strap of his duffle bag carefully. As they made their way to the elevators and then up to the Presidential Suite, Zach couldn’t help but wonder why everything felt so... right. Because it didn’t make any sense at all, this weird sort of connection or attraction or whatever it was with Drew.
All afternoon, Drew had seemed to have some sort of sixth sense about what Zach needed—reassurance, safety, comfort, levity—and it only continued a few minutes later as they entered their room for the evening and howled with laughter at just how ridiculously grandiose the Presidential Suite was. And as they eyed the room-service menu, starving and astonished at their offerings. And as they watched the server set up their ridiculously large selection of food and beverages on the equally ridiculously large dining table for eight.
Even now, as Zach sat, slightly overfilled but insanely satisfied, Drew seemed to know exactly what Zach needed.
“God, I don’t think I need to eat for the rest of the week,” Zach said, his voice slightly strained as he stretched back against the chair and put his hands on his stomach.
“Mint tea!” Drew said, popping up out of his seat with an amount of gusto that didn’t seem right for someone who had packed away just as much food as Zach had.
“Tea?” Zach groaned slightly. “I’m not sure I can fit anything else in my stomach.”