A/N: Funny story, I was looking for a story on my hard drive that I had written last month - not published - and found this one that I had totally forgotten about. I haven't found the other one yet, so this, I believe, is all you need to to know about my harddrive and how well organized it is :)
This story has a lot of potential in regards to continuing, but shall remain completed for now. Sometimes a story that leaves you wondering 'what if' has a lot of appeal as well. Not all questions need to be answered all the time.
Some things are just not meant to be. And some things start in very unusual ways. Both things can be applied to me.
In the category 'Things that were not meant to be' was me and my boyfriend, Joseph Morelli. But neither one of us was willing to admit to it. To some extent, I actually think Morelli really assumes we are a perfect couple, despite the fact that we disagreed about pretty much everything in our relationship. The disagreements start with whether I should have a job and what my role in this relationship was and end with our different takes on marriage and children.
According to my boyfriend, I didn't need a job, especially since I would be busy enough as a wife and mother. I had different ideas and liked my job, and had no desires to be a wife and mother. Most often, that was our main argument, marriage and children. With my job, Morelli by now had eased up on, but only because it was something I was set on. It wasn't as if my job was important and I was basically just in retail, working the cashier's desk and the floor, but I liked it and it gave me something to do. I wasn't a person that would feel comfortable staying at home. Maybe for a few years when the time for kids came, but not for all eternity. Joe had different ideas about it and was set hard on it and intended to fight me until the end. Some days I wondered whether secretly Joseph Morelli found immense pleasure in our arguments and how he managed to rile me up.
In the end, his Italian temper met my Hungarian feistiness and while these two characteristics didn't seem to match too well and clashed all the time, we still made it work. But maybe that was due to our stubbornness and the fact that neither one of us wanted to call this quits. Maybe that was due to neither one of us admitting defeat or weakness. But… I was close, especially right now.
My family had decided on gifting me and Morelli a trip as a Christmas present and sent us to Vegas for New Year's Eve, secretly probably hoping Morelli would finally succeed in knocking me up and/or that I'd return with a ring. Maybe they should have considered something a little more romantic than Vegas during the end of the year.
One thing led to another and before I knew it, I found myself pulled into the mother of all arguments. To be fair, I can't even remember anymore what it was that we were fighting about or what even started it. Who, however, was a quickly answered question: Morelli.
It ended like most of our fights and arguments end – with me being pissed and storming out. In this case, I was storming out of our hotel room, angry and without a clue about where I was walking to. Or where I came from. I found a table of Black Jack with an open seat and despite the fact that I wasn't planning on playing, I somehow managed to find myself in the middle of a game not even five minutes later. Since I had stormed out of my room with only a few things on me – namely my purse, which contained my room key and a few bills – my bets were on the low side. Not that it seemed to matter.
Despite the fact that I only had about thirty dollars on me and no real clue about the game itself, I managed to increase my meagre thirty bucks by quite a bit. And maybe the saying "Lucky at cards, unlucky in love" had true meaning after all. Especially after I managed to increase my initial capital to over 200.
Another saying was that you should always stop while being on top, so after another while, which could have been ten minutes or ten hours, who knew, and having increased my 200 to another 350 dollars, I decided to call it a night. Or day. Or whatever. It was hard to tell since there was no natural light anywhere and clocks didn't seem to really exist, either.
During my bouts of gambling, I had managed to calm down enough to be prepared to return to the room and the free drinks the waitress kept bringing me did the rest to put me in a mellow mood. So, after a small debate with myself I pulled out, collected my winnings and made my way towards my room, certainly not ready for groveling and admitting fault, but ready for calling it a time out and coming to the conclusion that things were as always and some things would just never change.
Walking towards the elevators, I was at once confronted with a small problem… what the hell was my room number? Joe had taken care of getting us checked in and due to the earliness of our flight – because it had been cheaper with the first flight out – I had barely been paying attention to anything, walking as if in some sort of trance and therefore not even checking the floor number we got off on. Or the room number, for that matter. Craptastic! Just what I really needed right now.
The room key itself was pointless as well, seeing as it was a plain one that looked like any other key, without a specific number on it and therefore no clue for me. So, I let out a sigh, turned around and made my way towards the front desk, trying to come up with some logical explanation. I wasn't certain whether anyone actually took down my name or wanted to see any kind of ID from me, so it might get tricky to explain that I really was staying with Morelli.
I was only a few more feet away from the front desk, when all of a sudden I remembered this conversation with Morelli and the clerk, arguing about premium rooms and that there was no such chance of these rooms being on a lower level. I knew they debated over floor levels forever and I just thought to simply let it go and take whatever room they give you and give me a bed I could fall into. I was simply that tired. I was probably about to snap and tell Morelli to shove it when they seemed to come to an agreement and a room number was settled on. What had been that goddamn number though?
Thirty-something. I remembered thirty, but nothing beyond that. I was wrecking my brain, trying desperately to come up with the number that followed thirty, but drew a blank. I was about to give up, when it seems my brain decided on cooperating. Thirty-ninety-three. So back to the bank of elevators.
It took me a while to figure out that not all elevators led to every floor, so I wasted a good ten precious minutes, which I could have been in bed already, locating my correct elevator. What, however, counted was that I finally did. And was one step closer to my bed.
The hall still looked as ugly as hours earlier – at least from what I could remember. I followed the numbers until I stood in front of my door. Holding the keycard in front of the lock, I could already hear my bed calling my name softly. Just… the lock gave an odd – and rather negative sounding – noise, and a red light was displayed a few moments later. Odd. Knowing these locks could be a little fickle sometimes, I held the card in front of the door once more, expecting a different result than before, but being faced with the same noise and red light.
Great. Wonderful timing for my card to stop working. Slowly, I noticed my mellow mood to slip away and being replaced by anger and annoyance. But that was most likely due to my lack of sleep by now. The few hours I had managed to sleep once we had gotten to our room only lasted me that long.
For good measure, I tried for lucky number three and was presented with the same result as before. I knew these cards could be wiped clean sometimes if in too close contact with a cell phone or similar things, but mine hadn't been anywhere close. At least not as far as I knew.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, I walked back to the elevators and pressed the button for the ground floor to find the front desk to get my card reprogrammed. At least I knew the room number and therefore shouldn't have too many issues. Hopefully.
Arriving on the ground floor, I started my journey through the floor, because the front desk wasn't anywhere close to the elevators. Why should they be anyway? Who cares about convenience?
By the time I managed to get to the front desk, I was beyond annoyed – and sleepy/tired/cranky – and my mood didn't improve when I was met by a perky receptionist. It was freaking 3am by now – at least judging by the single clock I managed to come by – who was that awake and happy at that hour?
"Hi, how can I be of assistance to you?" she asked, smiling widely at me.
"My room key somehow stopped working and it won't open my door for me. I just need my bed and would be grateful if that could get fixed," I explained, trying to sound somewhat normal and not as angry and annoyed as I was feeling. It wasn't her fault, after all.
"Certainly. Let me take a quick look and we'll have you in your bed swiftly. What's the room number?"
"3093," I replied, sliding my card across the desk.
She inserted the card into some machine, typed on her keyboard as well as on the machine, and looked at me a moment later.
"For security reasons, can you confirm the date of your arrival?"
"Today," I replied, before correcting myself. "I mean, yesterday, seeing that it is already 3am the next day."
She checked the monitor, nodded, and handed me the key back. "All set. Is there anything else I can be of assistance?"
"No, that's all. Thanks," I said, and before she could reply I was gone, happy to finally get into my bed. I started my journey back to my beloved elevators, found the right one almost instantly, and went back up.
Standing in front of my room door once more, I held the card carefully against the lock and hoped for better luck this time.
I was almost crying when the green light was displayed and the door unlocked a second later.
The room was – as expected – dark, even the blackout curtains closed and somehow seeming bigger than before. That, of course, seemed ridiculous, especially when considering that I couldn't see a thing!
I carefully felt my way towards the beds, trying to avoid using the light since that would be another level of mean and would undoubtedly lead to a whole new and different argument. An argument I really wasn't in the mood to have right now.
Feeling the edge of the bed, I almost let out a sigh of relief, stripping down to my undies a moment later and letting my clothes join my purse on the floor a second after that.
I lifted the blanket and crawled into bed, blissful for the softness of the mattress and the luxurious feel of the sheets – which seemed less luxurious earlier today.
Sensing Morelli not too far away from me, I scooted closer towards him. I noticed a slight movement that came to a stop within a few seconds and at least meant no round two in regard to fighting- for now, anyway. Tomorrow was a whole different story. I took that as my encouragement to make some amends for now and scooted even closer.
"I'm sorry," I said half-hearted like he had himself so often. In order to make my point, I wrapped my arms around his torso and moved closer once more until my torso was pressed tightly against his. "Can we just get through this trip without another fight?"
My arms had just wrapped around his body when I realized three odd things: My fingers brushed over naked skin. Morelli never in all the years I've known him ever slept without a shirt on. So why start now? He also was incredibly warm – warmer than I had ever experienced him. And he was a lot more muscular than I remembered. What the hell? And what was that scent? It was almost tantalizing, seductive, and so incredibly sexy. What the hell?
This sure as hell was not Morelli's usual scent. He generally wore cheap and tasteless cologne. His credo usually was that it shouldn't cost more than ten bucks, and that's how he smelt. The scent that was infiltrating my nostrils right now wasn't fitting any of these usual characteristics. It smelled expensive, exclusive, and rich.
So, if this wasn't Morelli's scent… this wasn't Morelli.
Just when the conclusion sat in, I was exclaiming, "what the fuck?" as well as jumping back as if being burned. Switching on the bedside lamp a second later, my suspicion was confirmed, and I was looking at someone definitely was not Morelli. Not even close. He was… galaxies away from Morelli. I might have been in shock, surprise and generally out of my depth, but even in that state I could notice and acknowledge the hotness and sheer beauty of the guy that was sitting opposite of me.
Looking around for some sort of weapon, while wondering where the hell my boyfriend was, I realized that… this wasn't my room. It was spacious and big and just a lot more beautiful, with small details throughout that our 'premium room' didn't have. So… maybe 3093 hadn't been the correct number after all?
"You are not my boyfriend," I more or less stated dumbly.
"Not quiet," the gorgeous stranger replied with an almost wicked smile. "But if that position opens up, I'm certainly interested in an audition."
I jumped out of bed, only realizing too late that I stood half naked in front of a stranger. Had I mentioned how gorgeous he was? Skin a few shades darker than sun-kissed, long-ish black hair and a naked torso which displayed nicely built muscles. And was that a six pack? A freaking sixpack? Don't get me wrong, Morelli was in good shape, had to be seeing that he was a cop and it benefited him and his job if he kept active. But Morelli had nothing on the guy still in bed, studying me almost curiously and so very unapologetic and brazen. Watching his eyes travel over my body felt almost like his hands caressed.
I grabbed my clothes off the floor and saw a chair in the corner, in which I sat down, pulling my knees up to my chin. Somehow, this position seemed a lot safer than starting to get dressed. The chair put a nice and safe distance between us and it would give me a little of time to think. Not that there was a lot to really think about. Other than how to best explain this and how to leave with at least some shreds of dignity still intact.
"I think I have the wrong room," I tried explaining the obvious once more. "This is obviously not the room me and my boyfriend have. I must have gotten the numbers wrong. Everything looks so similar to when I stormed out of said room after our fight and…"
I knew I was babbling and telling this guy stuff he probably didn't need to know and didn't care about to begin with.
"When was that?" he interrupted me.
"When was what?" I asked, confused.
"The fight after which you stormed out of the room."
"Oh… a few hours ago, I think."
"And he didn't come after you?"
Somehow, his question sounded not just curious, but almost like he was offended and didn't understand.
"There wasn't any reason, and he usually knows that it's better to leave me alone and give me… space," I tried justifying, not entirely sure why I felt the need to defend Morelli. To a stranger, nevertheless.
"Safety would be my first reason to go after you, seeing that you are probably not local and there are plenty of weird and drunk people out here. That alone should have been plenty of reason. Another one is the makeup sex – the longer you wait, the weirder it gets."
"In my experience, the longer you wait, the clearer it becomes whose fault it might be…"
"It's makeup sex. Who cares about whose fault it is when you can spend that time with a lot more pleasant activities? Since you seemed to be willing to come back to him and crawl into bed with him, it wasn't something to break up about. So… should it really matter who was at fault and who has been wronged? And if it really does matter, maybe it's time for you to think about whether or not he's the guy for you. If he is a smart guy, the makeup sex is also the only reason he is fighting with you," he went on, smiling at me almost wickedly. Was it just me or did the room temperature all of a sudden increase? By a lot?
I debated with myself whether I should explain that one of the reasons I was willing to crawl back into bed with Morelli was simply that I was tired and didn't want to book myself my own room. Mainly due to monetary issues, anyway. Though my winnings from tonight could probably afford me a room. But that wasn't the point. And, as excited as he seemed to be about the general existence of makeup sex, it wasn't something I was hung up on. Don't get me wrong, it was sex and sex was always nice, but that was it. Nice. It wasn't something elevating or extraordinarily out-of-this-world experience. The stuff you read about in books or saw in movies? Not really how things went for me and Morelli. At best, it was ten minutes of passion. At worst, I faked things and then found my shower massager once Morelli had fallen asleep. So, you see, makeup sex wasn't something I needed to look forward to, really. Though, in all fairness, looking at my stranger, he radiated something so potent and sexual that I was having no doubt about things being very different with him. Different in a way that I certainly, most likely, wouldn't need my shower massager anytime soon, unless he was the one holding it. And that thought… woah.
"Did he at least call?" he asked, and I was almost certain I could answer that question without looking at my phone. For effect, I retrieved my purse from the floor, without flashing him, and looked for my phone. No missed calls. No surprise.
"That's a no then," the handsome stranger determined without waiting for an answer. "Maybe that's all you need to know about him, then."
"You… don't even know me or my boyfriend," I said, almost defensively.
"Maybe, but I know you left after a fight, not even aware of your own room number, and he doesn't even seem concerned enough in order to go looking for you or even gracing you with a call. And… maybe even more importantly, instead of running out of here the moment you realize you got cosy with the wrong guy, you sit here, debating. Doesn't seem to me like you are in a hurry. Not that I mind. Quite the opposite. You upgrade my room sitting here half-naked."
"Not wanting to bruise your ego, but the only reason I'm not storming out of here is because I need to come up with a way of getting dressed with my dignity still intact and also what my actual room number is."
"Don't leave on my account. Also… Your dignity is still intact as far as I'm concerned."
Well, good to know, but it wasn't like he had managed to get into the wrong room, cosied up with a stranger and was now sitting in his underwear opposite said stranger. Well, technically he was, but he didn't look he even knew what self-doubt was, let alone like he ever had doubted himself or the way he looked.
Before I could say anything else, I noticed him getting up, tying a sheet around his hips and walking in my direction. "What's… with the sheet?" I asked before I could stop myself.
He just smiled at me for a long moment. "I'm not exactly dressed," he just explained, and I found his reply slightly odd. It isn't like I was dressed either in my underwear. And hadn't he just said my dignity was still intact? Maybe he was trying to preserve himself? He must have read my thoughts by the way I looked at him, since he replied without me even having to ask.
"When I say not exactly dressed, I mean… not dressed at all," he clarified, and I believe I might have personated a goldfish. "Not that it is anything I'm too concerned about, but I figured you'd prefer to not get all at once." And on he went, walking past me and vanishing into what I assumed was probably the bathroom, just to reappear a moment later.
"This way, you have enough time for your dignity," he explained, winking at me, and went on after a moment. "If you still sit in that chair in only your underwear by the time I get back out, I won't be held accountable for my actions and my sheet will definitely vanish by then." And then the door closed once more.
I grabbed my clothes and more or less ran through the room, not really sure why. It seemed almost like I wanted to get a little more space between him and me and standing by the window front seem as far as I could go. I hurried into my shirt but... got distracted, not even halfway through. The curtains had moved a fraction, and I was presented with a glimpse of the view from this room. I was a lot higher than I had expected and had a magnificent view of the Strip with all its lights and glitter and blinking. I took a moment to take it all in, amazed and almost enchanted by the view and the prettiness I was presented with. It all seemed so quiet and a little magical from up her, compared to the view from my actual room, which as far as I was concerned was towards a brick wall.
"Is this an invitation?" I heard coming from behind me, pulling me back out of my trance and into reality. A reality in which I stood in my barely decent underwear in front of a large window and probably resembled a small child at Christmas.
"Sorry, I was distracted by the view for a moment," I said, getting back to getting dressed.
"I actually enjoy the view from my point here a lot more," he just remarked, which made me turn around. He leaned against the wall and was studying me almost rigorously. I noticed the sheet had vanished, and he was actually wearing black boxer shorts by now. And somehow, I don't know how or why, but somehow, dressed in boxer shorts and no sheet made him look even hotter. Maybe I was doing good reminding myself I was in a relationship?
After I finished getting dressed, I found my phone once more. Seeing my handsome stranger hadn't moved an inch from his position and I dialled Morelli's number, hoping he'd pick up. About six rings in, I was almost certain I'd hear the mailbox any moment now, when I was surprised.
"What?" Morelli more or less grumbled into the phone.
"I… um… I need our room number," I asked, feeling slightly dumb for no apparent reason. It wasn't like I was giving news to the guy in the room with me.
Instead of a reply, I heard an odd laugh. "Are you kidding me, Cupcake? You storm out of our room after some ridiculous and pointless argument and don't even know the room we are in? And then you call in the middle of the goddamn night to rectify that slip of mind? Seriously, Steph, out of all the stupid shit you managed to pull throughout the years… this must take the cake. It's Thirteen-ninety-three."
"So… One three nine three?" I asked, wanting to make sure I got it right.
"Isn't that what I just said?" Morelli asked, annoyed.
"I…. um… yes. I would need you to let me back in if you don't mind," I went on, thinking there was no way I'd walk downstairs to reception again and explain why I needed another reset on my room key. No way on earth.
"The least you could have done was take that damn key with you when you stormed out," he mumbled, more annoyed by now. "Where are you anyway? That doesn't sound like you are anywhere lively."
"I'm… at… I managed to find a quiet spot to hear the conversation," I lied, knowing there also was no way that I'd explain where I really was right now. One argument had been enough for me tonight. I didn't need another one. I needed my bed. And quietness as well as tranquillity. Both things technically applied to the room I was currently in, only that it was neither my room nor my bed.
"Don't let that stop you," my mysterious stranger replied, making me realize I must have probably said the last part out loud. I was only slightly glad that Morelli had hung up by now. That would have been awkward to explain away.
After another moment of mindless thoughts, I set into motion, put my phone in my purse, and made my way to his door.
"I… think I should go now, seeing as you probably want to get back to bed and sleep at some point, and I should do the same. It was… nice meeting you," I said, feeling almost stupid again. Nice meeting you? What the hell?
"I can think of a way or two on making this meeting even nicer," he replied, a wolf grin following his suggestive remark.
"Maybe some other time," I just smiled and walked past him. "Thanks for… um… your hospitality and not making this into a big deal."
Instead of a reply, he just shrugged.
"Not sure I would be as welcoming if this meeting had been reversed."
Another shrug and when I finally had passed him fully and was almost by the door, I felt his hand grab mine and pull me back for a second. I was not sure what I had expected, but him smiling at me, pressing his lips against the back of my hand, before releasing it and eventually also me, hadn't been my expectation.
"I'm Carlos, by the way," he said when I was almost by the door. I watched him walk towards me and stop at the coat rack for a second.
"I'm Stephanie," I just said, and a second later, once he was finished at the coat rack, he pressed a business card into my hands.
"In case you ever feel the need to crawl into foreign beds," he said, smiling at me. "And I promise you, I'll never fight with you, unless of course I'm after makeup sex. I might be willing to find the weirdest arguments just to get a raise out of you for that," he remarked, and I smiled for a second. "I will also always come running after you. Just to make sure."
I just nodded, not sure what to say to something like that, and pressed the door handle down. But before I could actually walk through and vanish, I heard him speak once more. "One last thing," he started and before I could ask or even wait on what it would be, I felt his hand around my wrist and was pulled back, twisted around and caught in rather impressive arms a second later, his lips pressed against mine. It was soft and short and I could actually pride myself in being able to say that I didn't reciprocate, but it was a close call. When he let go of my lips, he simply smiled and I might have forgotten my own name.
"In case things with you and that guy don't work out, I'm here for another three nights. Feel free to use that room key when you need to get away and enjoy my view a little longer."
He pressed his lips against my forehead and pushed me out of the door a moment later, closing it behind me and leaving me wondering what the hell had just happened. Like… all of it.
Before I could think about it too much, I set in motion, back to my beloved bank of elevators and a whole new game of 'find the correct elevator for your floor'.
Eventually I managed to get to my correct floor and knocked at the what I hoped was finally the correct door, seeing Morelli open it a moment later, looking less than happy. But, in all fairness, if the roles had been reversed, I don't think I would have been too happy either.
"I see you finally made it," he just commented and went to bed a second later, not even wondering where the hell I had been for the past five hours. I got out of my clothes, and joined him in bed, turning on my back, glad I finally managed to make it not just to bed but also to the correct bed. Took me long enough.
Funny thing though was that now, when I finally made it to bed, I wasn't tired anymore and would spend the next few hours laying wide, wide, wide awake, replaying the Carlos in my mind.
What if…?