Chapter 2 Room For Two

~~SERAPHINE~~

The Seattle hotel was even more beautiful than the pictures. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, and the tiled floors reflected the warm lights like a mirror.

I stood in the lobby with my suitcase, trying not to think about how this moment was supposed to be different.

"Checking in?" The receptionist's smile was professional and warm.

"Yes. Reservation under Seraphine Johnson."

She typed on her computer, her manicured nails clicking against the keys. "Ahh yes, that's room 512. You're the one who changed from the romance package, right?"

I managed to reply without overthinking. “Is there a problem?”

“Your change of reservation couldn't be processed due to unforeseen circumstances. However, due to the inconvenience this might cost you, we would refund you the extra fees you made,” she explained. “Hope, that's fine by you?”

I took a deep exhale. “No problem.”

"Very well then. Here's your key card. The elevators are to your right. Enjoy your stay."

Room 512 was on the fifth floor, at the end of a long hallway. I slid the key card and pushed open the door, gasping at what I saw.

The suite was huge, with floor to ceiling windows showing the Seattle skyline. A bottle of champagne sat in an ice bucket on the table, with two glasses beside it.

Two. Everything in this room was designed for two.

I set down my suitcase and kicked off my shoes. The bed was massive, covered in rose petals that housekeeping must have arranged. Another reminder of what this trip was supposed to be. I brushed them onto the floor, not caring about the mess.

The minibar caught my attention. Why not? I was on vacation, alone in a city where no one knew me. I grabbed a tiny bottle of vodka, then another. The alcohol burned going down, but it helped quiet the voice in my head that kept replaying last night.

After the third tiny bottle, the room felt too hot. I turned on the air conditioning and lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The alcohol made everything fuzzy, softer somehow, and my body felt warm and tingly.

I thought about Raymond, about how he used to touch me. Then I pushed that thought away. No, I wouldn't think about him.

Instead, I imagined someone else. Someone faceless, someone who would want me for exactly who I was. Someone who wouldn't care that I didn't have a wolf.

My hands traveled on their own, sliding under my dress. The alcohol made me brave, made me forget to be embarrassed. I was alone in a hotel room in a strange city.

No one would know. No one would judge. For once, I could just feel without thinking about being the wolfless girl, the one who wasn't enough.

I closed my eyes, lost in the sensation, in the fantasy of being wanted and yearned. The pleasure built slowly, my breathing getting heavier. I was so close, so focused on chasing that release, that I didn't hear the door open.

"What the hell?"

My eyes flew open. A brawny man stood at the entrance of the slightly opened door, tall and imposing, with a suitcase in his hand. Our eyes met, and I screamed, grabbing a pillow to cover myself.

"Get out! What are you doing in my room?" I shouted, my face contorting with embarrassment.

"Your room?" He proceeded inside, shutting the door behind him. "This is my room. I have the key card right here."

Even in my mortified state, I couldn't help but notice how gorgeous he was. Tall, probably six foot three, with jet black hair and the bluest eyes I'd ever seen. His suit looked expensive, tailored perfectly to his muscular frame.

"There must be some mistake," I said in a defensive tone, clutching the pillow tighter. "I checked in hours ago. This is room 512."

He pulled out his phone, showing me his reservation. Room 512, the same dates, the same romance package. "Looks like the hotel screwed up."

"Can you... can you turn around so I can fix my clothes?"

He turned toward the door, and I quickly adjusted my dress, trying to salvage what little dignity I had left. This was worse than finding Raymond with Olivia. At least then I had anger to hide behind. Now I just had humiliation.

"You can turn around now," I mumbled.

He faced me again, and I noticed the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "I'm Andrew, by the way."

"Seraphine." I stood up, my feet faltering from the alcohol. "Look, I'm sorry about what you saw. I'll call the front desk and get this sorted out."

Instantly, I grabbed the room phone and dialed reception. After being on hold for ten minutes, the answer wasn't what I wanted to hear.

The hotel was completely booked. There had been a system error that double-booked our room. The nearest available hotel was forty miles away.

"What did they say?" Andrew asked when I hung up.

"We're both booked in this room. Everything else is full because of some conference. The nearest hotel with availability is forty miles away."

He loosened his tie, thinking. "The suite has two bedrooms. We could share for tonight, and tomorrow they can sort this out properly."

Share a room with a stranger who had just seen me at my most vulnerable? But what choice did I have? It was almost midnight, and I'd been drinking. Driving forty miles to another hotel wasn't really an option.

"I promise I'm not some creep," he added, seeming to sense my hesitation. "Just a guy who wants a bed after a long flight. You can lock your bedroom door if it makes you feel safer."

There was something about his voice. It was soothing and reassuring, and that made me trust him. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was that I'd already hit rock bottom with the embarrassment. What else could go wrong?

"Okay," I concluded. "But we never speak of what you saw when you walked in."

A peal of laughter escaped his mouth, and the sound was rich and warm. "What did I see? I just walked into an empty room."

Despite everything, I smiled. "Thank you."

"How about we start over?" He extended his hand. "Hi, I'm Andrew. Looks like we're roommates for the night."

I shook his hand, noticing how it completely engulfed mine. "Hi, Andrew. I'm Seraphine, and I really need another drink."

"Well then," he affirmed, hastening to the minibar, "let's see what overpriced alcohol this place has to offer. And maybe we can figure out what to do with all these rose petals on the floor."

As he poured us both drinks, I noticed a tattoo peeking out from under his collar. It looked like scales, maybe part of a dragon.

Who was this man, and why did being near him make my skin tingle in a way that had nothing to do with embarrassment?