Roses & Bullets

X. The Guest

CLAIRE

Oh. My. God.

The man who just walked in is like a prince straight out of a fairytale book, if princes are rugged-looking. He's so tall and ripped, and his tousled hair looks perfect.

When I heard the front door open, I thought it was Mikey. But I was wrong. It was a young man around his thirties, and he was carrying a piece of luggage.

A new guest. I've never seen a man so beautiful before that I can't help but stare. I'm so distracted by his good looks when I realize that he is asking for a room.

"I'd like to book a room, please." He has a deep, strong voice.

"Oh, yes, of course. One room for?" I ask the guest.

"It's just me. Room for one," answers the guest. He's alone. Interesting.

After a few more questions, I hand him his room keys. He offers to pay for his room immediately, but I tell him that he can do that once he checks out.

"Really? You trust your guests that much?" the man asks.

"Yes, I do."

"Well, you shouldn't," he says coolly.

"Why not? Aren't all hotels like that? Guests are supposed to pay for their bills after checking out, right?"

"How old are you?" the man asks me.

What the hell?

"Excuse me?" I reply incredulously.

"You just look so young."

"I'm twenty-six."

"I see. That's why."

"That's why what?" Okay, now you're pissing me off.

"Don't be so ignorant. Don't trust people so easily."

Who do you think you are?

"I'm sorry, but you don't even know me. How dare you talk to me that way."

"Just a piece of advice, don't be too friendly to others," the man tells me with cold eyes. "People might take advantage of you."

"Well, thanks for the advice, but keep it to yourself. You're just a tourist, and you don't know how things are done here," I say as I try to remain calm, but deep inside, I'm boiling.

"You're right. I don't know, and I don't care."

I'm out of words. I don't know what else to say.

"Is there anything else that you need? I ask the guest.

"Do you have Wi-Fi?" he asks as if he didn't just insult me a while ago.

I take a piece of paper and write down the password.

"There you go." I hand him the paper, and I'm so close to slapping him hard.

"Thanks," the guest takes it and climbs up the stairs.

What a jerk! He's so f*****g rude! And to think that I was so mesmerized by his looks.

"Who are you talking to?" asks Corey, who comes out of his room.

"New guest," I answer curtly.

"You looked pissed. Something wrong?"

"Our new guest is so rude!" I hiss as my face starts turning red while telling my brother what happened. Corey just chuckles.

"What's so damn funny?"

"Nothing," he answers. "Just ignore him."

"He's our guest, Corey. I can't just ignore him."

"Well then, just talk to him if it's necessary. You know? No need to be friendly.

If he needs something or if he's asking about something, then answer him. But if not, just stay away from him," says Corey as he walks toward the door.

"Where are you going?" I ask him, careful not to annoy him again.

"I just need some fresh air."

"Oh, okay." I don't push him. "Be back by dinner, okay?

"Okay."

I open my laptop and sit on the couch. I've always wanted to be a writer. A few months ago, I submitted my novel to a publishing company, hoping that it will be published.

I check my email to see if there's a response from them, but I'm disappointed to see that there isn't. I submitted the manuscript four months ago. Great.

Maybe they didn't like my story. Maybe it's boring. Maybe something's missing.

I should just write a new one. I'm opening up a blank document when I suddenly remember something. Did I put towels in room 206?

I cleaned it and changed the sheets two days ago, but I'm not sure if I left any towels in the cabinet. Damn it. I should just bring some to his room.

I reluctantly stand up to fetch some towels in the storage room. I take two white towels, then head upstairs. Upon reaching room 206, I hesitate first before knocking.

When the guest opens the door, all I can do is gawk. Holy s**t. I can't help but stare at the shirtless body of the man in front of me.

Seriously? It's like he's photoshopped! He's got a nice body and, well, lots of scars.

"It's rude to stare. Didn't your parents teach you that?" he asks me.

"I wasn't..." I stammer, "I didn't mean to..."

"What do you want?" he asks me again. Annoyance is now evident in his face.

"I brought you some towels. I forgot to put some towels in your cabinet," I reply as I clumsily hand him the towels. Something about him makes me nervous.

"Anything else?" he inquires.

I just bite my lip. This man's oozing with virility and radiating danger at the same time.

"Yes. You're welcome, Mr. Daniels." I answer sarcastically.

"Oh, thank you. I didn't get your name."

"It's Claire," I reply as I turn my back on him and leave, not giving a damn if he says something or not.

"Thank you, Claire!" he shouts.

I hurriedly go back downstairs. I can feel my heart beating wildly in my chest. s**t. What the hell was that? Why the hell was I so nervous while talking to him?

I go to the kitchen to get a glass of water. I should start cooking for dinner. I finish drinking my water and start preparing.

Still, I can't get his face out of my mind. Even the sound of his voice rings my head. His eyes are like piercing through my soul.

Corey is right. I should just stay away from that man.