Wildest Dreams

Chapter 36

We check into the hotel and as we stand in the lobby, we look severely out of place. Around us are older men in suits with women young enough to be their daughters hanging off of their arms, people with designer clothes and bags, and stuffy businesspeople.

"I feel like we don't belong here," I say to Spencer as we walk towards the elevator.

"Who cares? I'm not here to look at them," he says.

The doors close and he transfers his suitcase to his right hand so he can hold my hand with his left. I look up at him with a wide smile on my lips and he matches my expression. I stare into his pearly white smile and I speak before I could stop the words from coming out.

"You have pretty teeth." He raises an eyebrow and his smile grows.

"You can count them if you want," he teases.

"I might take you up on that, Pretty Boy," I smirk.

"No, please don't call me that," he groans.

The doors open and I pull him down the hallway towards our room. He laughs loudly behind me, and when we reach the door marked 672, he crashes into me. I lean against the door and giggle into my arm while Spencer fumbles with the keycard.

We finally get through the door and we toss the bags onto the bed by the door before we flop down on the other, legs tangled together. When our laughter subsides, the reality of the situation sets in.

I'm here with Spencer, the man I have been dreaming about for months. He's real and tangible and I get to call him mine.

I reach up to gently cup his cheek and he turns his face so he can kiss the heel of my hand. A soft smile crosses my lips and the only thing I can focus on is the synchronization of our breathing.

"We should probably get ready for dinner," Spencer says.

"Not yet. I just want to hold you for a while, please," I whisper.

"Okay, but I do have a surprise for you after your shower."

We lay together for a while, just lost in each other's eyes. I trace patterns over his cheek as he scans every detail of my face, probably committing it to memory so he can materialize it later.

"I think we should get ready now", I say, sitting up.

He follows me to the edge of the bed and it seems that he's almost reluctant to let me go. I pepper his cheek with kisses and that is enough to convince him to release me. I blow him a kiss as I disappear into the bathroom, and his lost puppy expression makes my heart ache.

I push the door closed but I do not click it, leaving it slightly ajar in case Spencer decided to join me. I take three towels from the rack, one large, one smaller, and a washrag. I am relieved to find bottles of floral-scented soaps along the edge of the shower.

I figure out how to set the temperature of the shower and once it is steamy-hot, I step into the stall and shut the door. I let the water run over my shoulders and I can feel the tension from the last months melts away. I pour the shampoo onto my palm and lather it through my hair, and after I rise it out, I do the same with the conditioner.

Next, I pour the body wash on the washcloth and scrub my skin clean from the scent of the stuffy courtroom air, the prison soap residue, and all of the bad memories. I rinse my body and watch as the white suds flow down the drain in the floor. I stand under the stream for a few minutes longer before I shut off the water and step out of the shower and onto the plush bath mat.

I notice some powders, a tube of mascara, pencil eyeliner, and a lipgloss laying on the counter and I smile to myself. Spencer must have gone down to the gift shop to buy me some makeup while I was in the shower.

I dry my body enough so I won't drip on the carpet and I style my hair with my fingers before I scrunch it with the towel I set aside. I wish I had products to put in it to prevent it from getting frizzy, but I shrug it off. Spencer will shower me with compliments either way.

I exit the bathroom and Spencer's eyes immediately snap up to me, abandoning the book perched in his lap. He waves shyly and I notice that his breathing is shallower.

"D-do you want me to turn around?" he asks.

I grin at his nervousness and I shake my head, telling him no. I take my bag from the bed and pull out some undergarments. They don't match, but they are what Spencer picked out for me, so it's still special in a different way.

I turn around so my back is facing him and I drop my towel. I can feel his eyes on my ass as I pull my panties on and clasp my bra. Just as I am about to return to the bag to find an outfit, I feel a hand on my wrist.

"Wait," he says, "I have something for you to wear."

Spencer digs through his back and pulls out a long, coral sundress that is decorated with light pink flowers and green leaves. He unfolds it and holds it up so I can see it in its entirety. It has a sweetheart neckline and thin spaghetti straps.

It reminds me of the dreams.

"I had to guess your size. I hope it fits," he smiles nervously.

I take the dress and pull it over my head. I turn around to examine the fit and I am pleasantly surprised. It's slightly gapy in the armpits, but it's nothing that a few safety pins can't fix.

"It's beautiful, Spencer. I love it so much," I giggle.

I twirl back around and look at him, and I realize that he is wearing his outfit from the dreams, too. A purple button-down, navy slacks and shined brown leather shoes.

He holds out his hand and I lace my fingers with his, a bright smile on my face. He takes our hands and hooks it under his chin.

"Are you ready for dinner?" he asks.

"Let's do it," I say.