To The Moon And Back

Chapter 8

Jay enters the office again when the guys depart. This is more privacy than I could ever desire.

"Ready to go?" He asks.

"Yeah, sure."

He guides me to his room and hands me a key card. I take the key and unlock the door.

"This is a temporary arrangement, a separate room will be provided for you soon," he says.

"Yeah, okay," I say. I did not think this through. I'm staying in a stranger's room, Pam would murder me if she finds out.

But he's the Dome Leader, so I suppose this means I can trust him. I hope.

We enter the room. He shows me where the bathroom and wardrobe are and warns me not to touch any of his stuff. A guard arrives with my suitcase in his hands.

"Thank you, Will," Jay says, handing me the bag. "I assumed you'll need that, Aurora."

I smile politely. "Thanks."

"I just need a couple of minutes in the room, then you can have it for the night."

I don't fancy the notion of being all alone. "By myself?"

"There's a guard outside. And if you need me, you can call." He takes my phone from my jacket pocket and records his number.

"Alright. Thank you, Jay."

"Anytime."

He takes off his tie and brushes his hair in front of a mirror. I take my toiletry kit out of my suitcase and head to the bathroom.

Oh dear, I don't have toothpaste. I planned to share Lukas's tube.

"Um, Jay?"

"Yes?" He answers, approaching the open bathroom door.

"Can I use your toothpaste?"

"What?" He grins.

I bite my lip. "Your toothpaste. Please?"

"Uh, of course. You can use whatever you want. Make yourself at home," he replies.

I squeeze the tube onto my toothbrush, my cheeks flaming. This whole situation is unbelievably ridiculous. Who in the entire goddamn solar system cares if you use their toothpaste? I guess Pam raised me to be more polite than necessary. I think my knuckles are still trembling from the awkwardness of this whole thing.

I think he thinks I'm absurd. He's not mistaken.

He follows me into the bathroom. My hands tremble even more. He looks relaxed, unlike the meticulously composed posture he keeps in front of everyone.

"I hope you don't mind if I brush my teeth as well," he tells me with a smirk, then grasps his brush.

I smile a very flustered smile. "Definitely not." This is so, so, immensely stupid. He's making me uncomfortable on purpose, this bastard. "It's your bathroom, anyway."

"I'm aware, just attempting to seem nice," he says, still keeping the smirk. "Which is totally out of my character. As you can tell."

"That's really appreciated," I mock.

He presses a button on his brush that squirts toothpaste and another that moves it like crazy. I pause brushing with my lame brush, and I'm sure I'd be gaping if my mouth wasn't full of toothpaste.

Ugh, fucking toothpaste, the highlight of the day.

"I feel like an old-fashioned grandma, now," I say.