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"Okay." I wasn't sure that he heard me, but he didn't need to. He grabbed my hand and pulled me behind him as he headed towards the door. There were cabs lined up outside and we grabbed the first one.

My ears were ringing as he slid into the seat beside me. He gave me a wide smile and pulled me close to him. "You don't think they'll care that we left them do you?" he asked. I'd nearly forgotten all about Lily and Miles.

I shrugged, "Honestly, who knows if they were still there." He laughed as he ran his hand down my arm, drawing feather-soft designs across my skin.

"Miles will take good care of her," Keaton assured me. I wasn't worried.

It was after midnight, but the hotel lobby was still full of people. We found the elevators and Keaton pressed only one floor. His floor. I was tired, but glad that the evening wasn't ending just yet. I should feel some sort of anxiety. The normal me would. By not pressing the button to my own floor I was sending my own message. Maybe it was the tequila or just my new temporary philosophy that had me not caring.

I FOLLOWED KEATON
into the room. It was huge. I'm pretty sure you could fit three of mine in it. There was a spacious living area with a couch, a lounger, a giant television, and a small bar that sat near a massive window overlooking the bay. Beyond the living space there appeared to be two additional rooms. I guess Miles and Keaton weren't snuggling in a king like Lily and I were. The visual made me giggle and Keaton turned to look at me questioningly. I waved him off and ventured further into the room.

"This is nice," I said turning in a slow circle to get the full 360 view.

"Check out the window," he urged. He grabbed my hand and pulled me behind him. I tumbled forward, nearly losing my balance.

"Wait. Shoes," I said. He caught my forward motion and steadied me upright. I kicked off one shoe, then the other and then looked up at him with a lazy smile. He was so tall, especially now that I was barefoot.

"Better?" he smirked.

"Much. Lead the way."

He was right, the window was a must. Once you got close enough that you weren't just staring at your own reflection you could see the lights of the Golden Gate Bridge. It was a stunning view. "I love this city," I sighed.

"Me too," he agreed.

"Do you want something to drink?" he asked. I shook my head, still focused on the view.

"Okay, I'll be right back, make yourself at home." He kissed my cheek and wandered into one of the rooms off of the main space. I turned and took a better look my surroundings. This place was fancy. Fancy, but lived in. It didn't have the feel of a stale hotel room.

I wandered into the room that Keaton had disappeared into. His bedroom. He wasn't there, but the light was on in the adjoining bathroom. Curious, I wandered around his room, trying to get a sense of who he was by looking at this space. It wasn't easy in a hotel room but I could gather pieces. For instance, his shoes were lined up in a neat row next to the wardrobe. Dress shoes, Chucks, running shoes. But there was a sweatshirt hanging across the chair along with a discarded pair of jeans. I couldn't tell if he was neat or messy. I walked over to the wardrobe and opened it up, wondering if he was someone who emptied their suitcase completely on a trip, or just pulled out what he needed each day. His clothes hung neatly. I was an emptier too. I don't know why that made me smile, to know that we were the same in that regard, but it did.

I heard the bathroom door open and turned to see Keaton standing in the doorway watching me, the bathroom light bathing him in sexy shadows. And God help me, his shirt was unbuttoned and showcasing the hard lines of his delectable body. I felt the flush spread across my skin. He stood there cool and collected, knowing exactly what he was doing to me. It made me want to kiss him again. He was an amazing kisser. Just thinking about it I could almost feel his lips against my own. His kiss left that kind of mark.

"Are you looking for my wallet?" he teased. I looked at him, confused, until I remembered that I'd been snooping through his closet. I felt the blush on my cheeks.

"Just getting to know you," I said.

"What do you want to know?" he asked, walking towards me. I held my breath, because his walk was predatory and I constantly felt like I was his prey. He brushed past me, close enough that our skin touched and the faint smell of his cologne tickled my nose. He went to the bed, kicked off his shoes and climbed on top of the covers. I watched as he propped a couple of pillows behind him and leaned back. Then, he held out a hand in offering. To me. To come to his bed.

"What?" I asked. Like I didn't know what he wanted. I was buying time.

"Come snuggle with me," he said.

"Snuggle?" I questioned.

"Yes, snuggle. I feel like snuggling. And this bed is insanely comfortable. Come here."

I took a step towards him, my brain going back and forth. Logic. Live. Logic. Live.

"Quinn," he said, breaking through the mind clutter.

Live.

I climbed onto the bed and into the little nook he'd made for me. You know how you read books and they talk about how it's the perfect fit, like you were made to be right there? It happened. It felt just like that. I took a deep breath, inhaling his scent and feeling a little drunk on the tingles it left behind.

"See, this is nice," he said as he pulled me tighter against him.

"This bed is really comfortable. If I had this bed at home I'm pretty sure I would never leave it," I admitted.

"Who says we have to leave it?" I felt his smile as he pressed his lips to the top of my head.

"I'm pretty sure that housekeeping would kick us out eventually," I laughed.

"That could get awkward," he agreed.

We fell silent as his hands moved in slow circles across my back. It was soothing and arousing at the same time. It was an odd sensation.

"I have more questions," he said finally.

"More? I'm pretty sure that you've gone through them all at this point," I laughed.

"Oh, no, I could keep this up for ages," he laughed. I heard it echo through his chest, mixing with the sound of his heartbeat and it was instantly one of my favorite sounds ever.

"Fine, what do you want to ask now?"

"Tell me about your first kiss," he said softly. I smiled at the question, loving the way he made me want to tell him everything.

"Jason Wright. I was fourteen. He was a year older and he kissed me at the skating rink. It was wet and messy and I didn't like it at all," I laughed.

"Did you kiss him again?"

"Once. It wasn't any better. I thought everyone was crazy wanting to do it and I swore it wasn't for me."

"Poor bastard," Keaton sighed.

"What about you?" I asked.

"I was fifteen," he started. I lifted my head, looking up at him, surprised that he'd been fifteen. I'm not sure why I thought that was unusual. Maybe he wasn't always such a playboy.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing, I just figured you'd have been an early bloomer," I admitted putting my head back down against his chest.

"You mean you expected me to be a man whore even as a preteen?" He was teasing me, but I still felt bad about the assumption.

"Sorry. Go on," I urged.

"Her name was Jessica. I thought she was beautiful. She had this long blond curly hair that went all the way down her back. I thought she was amazing. I asked her to the homecoming dance and then kissed her on the dance floor," he said.

"Did you kiss her again?" I teased, asking the same questions that he'd asked me.

"A few times. Until she broke up with me to go out with the new kid at school. I was heartbroken," he sighed.

"Poor bastard."

He laughed.

"So, what's the worst thing you've ever done?" he asked.

I laughed, "Oh, so now you get to the good stuff, huh?"

"Go on, tell me," he pushed. He was having fun, back to his new hobby of researching me. I liked the way he dug for answers. And I liked that he let me ask the questions back. There was so much more to Keaton than I'd thought. He'd proven that to me countless times over the past few days.

"Well," I said, giving it some thought. "I had a phase where I stole things,” I admitted.

"You mean like you stole gum from a gas station or something?" he asked, clearly unimpressed.

"No, like I stole my friend's Cabbage Patch doll because my mom didn't get me one for Christmas and I didn't want to have to wait to get one."

Keaton laughed, his body shaking against me.

"You did not!"

"I did. And then I tried to convince my friend that I'd had one just like hers all along. It was hopeless," I said embarrassed.

"Wow, Quinn, that's horrible," he said trying to sound appalled. I wasn't worried, because he was still chuckling.

"I know. My mom found out and made me give it back and apologize. I told her I did. But really I just left it on my friend’s doorstep and pretended not to know anything."

"And here I thought you were some sweet angel growing up. You were practically running a theft ring. Are you sure you weren't looking for my wallet earlier?" I pinched his side and laughed when he yelped.

"Okay, Okay . . . I'm done.”

"You're turn, Mr. Perfect. Tell me about something horrible that you did. We have to even the score," I said.

"Well, I, on the other hand, probably have too many to choose from," he admitted.

"You can start small," I said.

"Alright, when we were kids we'd always spend a few weeks each summer at our grandparent's house. We always looked forward to going out to their place. They had this big field near the house where Miles and I used to play. We'd build forts and shoot bb guns at cans. We would play in that field for hours. It was the best.

“So, anyway this one particular summer we headed out to the field and found out they were clearing everything to build some new hardware store. We were pissed. There was a big tractor out in the field and they had all of those surveying markers up. So, we moved them. The flags. Some of them we moved a few inches, some a few feet. We thought it would stop them from building it. Then, we realized that the tractor they were using had the keys in it. At least it did when they'd gone home for the day. Miles threw them as hard as he could. I still wonder if they ever found them."

"Oh my God, You probably set them back days or weeks," I laughed.

"It was our field. We felt it was our duty to take it back."

"I support it. Bad seeds need to stick together."

"Oh, baby, you could never be lumped into the same category as me. Thievery aside, I’d still put you on the tame side," he pointed out.

"Says the man who I berated endlessly for days," I said. That felt like a lifetime ago.

"We both know that I deserved all of that," he said softly.

I moved to look at him, needing to see his face. "No you didn't. I didn't know you. I shouldn't have made assumptions." He traced a finger down my cheek and his eyes looked apologetic.

"That's just it. You were dead on with a lot of things, Quinn. That’s the truth. You want to know what the worst thing I've ever done is?" He swallowed hard, "I’ve used this job and my status to sleep with a lot of women."

I felt myself tense in his arms and his grip around me tightened.

"I know it’s not the nicest thing, but it’s easy and it felt good for a time, no strings, just pleasure," he said. I put my head down on his chest again, needing a break from the honesty in his piercing gaze. It left me with a rush of conflicting emotions.

He smoothed my hair and let his confession sit between us. I knew he slept around. I'd known that from day one. But as I got to know him I saw so much more than just a shallow man looking for his next conquest. I'd seen someone real, genuine, driven. I'd seen someone that moved me and had made me feel alive these last few days. Maybe I'd been fooling myself; maybe I was only seeing what I’d wanted to see. Had he seen something in my eyes that made him worry I was looking for more than this week? Was this his way of reminding me to stick to my own rules?

"Like this, like us?" I asked quietly, the question escaping before I could think it through. I had no disillusions that this thing was going past Sunday, but I hated the idea of being a casual fling too.

"No, not like this," he answered quietly. "This feels different."

I relaxed against him, happy to hear him say that, even if it wasn't completely true. For now, I just wanted to pretend that it really was different.

I chose to believe him, because it felt different to me. And even if I knew the truth deep down, for now I was happy living in the moment.

I listened to his heartbeat beneath me, it's steady rhythm lulling me into a peaceful state. I felt the tug of sleep start to take me under and part of me wondered if I should get up and go to my own room. But then his arms wrapped around me and tucked me in close to him. I heard his breathing steady out into slow intakes and relaxed releases. It felt too good to be next to him so I snuggled closer and sunk into a peaceful sleep.