Cherish Every Moment Book 4: A Walk In Love

Pass Through

Rayne laughed at herself as she got off the phone. She had managed to accomplish all that she needed to do over the phone in record time. It had never been so easy to do that part. She had a little over and hour to wait for Avi's return. He'd messaged her once to let her know that he expected to be back just after ten and he'd just come to her room and they could decide what to do from there. She couldn't help but laugh when she got his second message.

'Forgot my phone. AGAIN! 😆. I am getting altogether too good at that. See ya soon.' She put her phone down next to his and grabbed her notebook from her bag. She needed to wrap up this manuscript so she could get it to the transcriptionist and start on the next idea that was in her head. She loved to write, especially in her journal, which recently, was full of thoughts of Avi. Her journal was almost full. So was this notebook. Thankfully she had ordered a couple of new ones and another notebook or two. Soon her pen was scratching away at the pages.

Rayne was lost in her work when she heard a soft knock on the door. Was it ten already? Why hadn't she just given Avi the extra key card they had given her? Would that have been too informal, too brash, too forward? It would have made things easier, Avi could have just let himself in. Were they at that point yet? She set her pen in her notebook to keep her place, carried it to the table and set it down. She went to the door and almost threw it open, before remembering, 'safety first' and peeking out the peephole. It wasn't Avi. She didn't recognize the person on the other side of the door. He was wearing a dingy ball cap and had his face turned down so she couldn't see it. His clothes were baggy and just as messy. He clearly wasn't anyone who should be near her door. Hotel employees had a uniform. She stepped away from the door quietly, trepidation filling her. She retreated to the nightstand. She picked up her phone, nine forty-five. She hoped whomever it was would just go away. Maybe he just had the wrong door, was looking for someone else. She got up and went back to check. She looked out the peephole again. He was still there.

"Can I help you?" She said without opening the door. There was no way in hell she was opening it for him. She looked at the additional locks and was satisfied to see them secured.

"What room is this?" The voice asked almost too casually.

"What room do you want it to be?" Rayne replied icily.

"226? I have a delivery for room 226."

"You have the wrong room. This is not 226." She said relieved. She wasn't expecting anything and she doubted that Avi would have anything more delivered to her. Avi was sweet and kind and thoughtful, loving and endearing, but that just didn't fit. If he had anything else for her he'd bring it with him when he returned. If Avi was going to be late he'd call or text. Her friend was the only other person that knew she was there. She would have said something.

"My apologies Ma'am. I am still new here." The voice on the other side of the door lied.

"No worries. It's on the other end of the hall, you just turned the wrong way." Rayne did not open the door. It didn't feel like the right thing to do. She didn't make it a habit to open doors for strangers, especially ones that lied. He indicated that he worked there, but by his dress alone, he clearly didn't. Maybe he was from a messenger service or something, one of those bike messengers. Was he wearing a backpack? Was she being paranoid? There was someone following her around. Would he have the means to follow her around the country? She had to catch a plane to get there. The messenger said thank you and went on his way. Rayne returned to her notebook. She picked it up to write but found she was too anxious. It was nearly ten. Avi would return soon. She didn't know what they would do, but she didn't really feel like going out in public. She felt a lot more like just sitting quietly with Avi and appreciating the silence. Better yet, she looked over at her guitar case, she felt like making music. She walked over and freed her guitar from his prison. She tightened the strings and tuned him by ear. Then check the tune with the tuner on her phone. Perfect. She strummed the strings and relished the sweet rich tones he gave her. She loved her guitar. He was her best friend. When her nerves were frayed, and frazzled, when she thought the world was about to end, he was her solace, her comfort, her one true friend. She kept him clean, tuned and safe. She kept extra strings for him should one break so she would never not be able to play. Her fingers danced over the strings and she played a soft tune to warm her fingers up. She fell into the rhythm of her own song as she lost herself in the music. Dulcet sounds flowed from the guitar as her fingers danced and she got lost in time.