3000 Miles (A Wesley Stromberg/Emblem3 Fanfiction)

Chapter Five

By four o'clock that afternoon we'd checked into one of the fanciest hotel rooms I'd ever stay in. A slight left brought me to a nook with a television and a love seat. Wesley set our hotel keys on the desk in front of the door and joined me in scoping the room. He seemed way less enthused than I was, but I was too captivated by the large windows and the view of Dallas that would be mine for whatever portion of the night we'd be spending in the room.

He set the shopping bags down beside the love seat. "There's only one bed. I'll sleep on the pull out inside the sofa."

I opened the door that I was standing beside and covered my mouth. Inside, a king sized bed draped in a white comforter lay in waiting. In the center of the large poof was a book. As I set my sole surviving duffel bag on the arm chair, I got a closer look at the title and felt my heart flutter.

"The Lovely Bones,"

"I gave them a call when I ran away from you at the mall," he explained proudly.

A card poked out of the top. Turning to the exact page, I couldn't conceal my grin. He stood right behind me, waiting for my reaction with a fervor that I could feel in the space between us.

"Was that the right page?" He asked, the anticipation evident in his tone of voice.

I read the card quickly: Wesley says he's sorry.

A small laugh escaped my throat as I closed the book and turned to him. He was closer than I though. So close that when my nose nearly touched his chest, I fell back on the bed and awkwardly kicked my shoes off to sit cross legged. He stayed where he was, awaiting my answer and chewing on his lower lip.

I smirked, impressed with his memory for the weird stuff. "Spot on, Stromberg."

He pumped his fist and clapped his hands once. "Score for Wes Master Fresh!"

"Alright, Wes Master," I pointed towards the door, walking him out and closing it behind us. "What's the game plan?"

"I need to make some phone calls," he said, brandishing the phone that had been glued to his palm for as long as I could remember. "Order us some grub and then we'll hit the town."

We did just that. We shared more stories and rack of lamb plus a bottle of Merlot that we both agreed tasted horrible. Before we knew it, the time was ten o'clock and he was pushing me into my bedroom with a shoe box and telling me to take my time. He'd slyly left one of the opaque bags on my bed with the pair of earrings that I'd picked up from the store. Careful not to let myself think anything of the occasion, I slid the bag off of the hanger and continued to be impressed.

It was a shock, not only seeing the two-hundred-seventy-eight dollar price tag, but looking somewhat decent in an expensive article of clothing. The guy did have impeccable taste, choosing a blouson dress that I'd never have chosen for myself. The caviar beads shimmered under the lights. To be honest, I looked like a peach colored disco ball, but this random new side of me enjoyed looking as flashy as I did. I quickly undid the braid in my hair, shook the waves in front of my shoulders, and stepped back to admire myself in the floor length mirror he's moved into the room for me temporarily.

Like Wesley, my eyes were a bit darker underneath. After the recent terror we'd experienced, I'd have taken a bit of discoloration to the scratches we both should have had. Applying enough concealer to at least mask some of the purple, I opted for nude eye makeup and opened the shoe box that Wesley had handed me when we'd gotten separated and reconvened in front of the food court. He'd picked out a tasteful pair of silver heels that may have put me at eye level with his chin. All in all, I looked fabulous. What he would be wearing was a pleasant mystery to me.