A Bad Boy in my life

Twenty five

At the door of the room, Maxon stood amidst the bustling crowd, resembling a lost child in a supermarket, desperately searching for his parents. His hands tucked into his pockets, he wore the same attire he arrived in from the trip—a black shirt and dark jeans—as his eyes aimlessly roamed the surroundings.

Making my way through the throng of people, I reached Maxon and couldn't resist teasing him. "Looking for someone?"

Maxon glanced at me, his expression serious. "Yes... your sanity," he retorted. "A hotel room party? Seriously, Margo? What could possibly interest you about that?"

I crossed my arms, unfazed by his remark. "If my idea of fun, as you claim, differs from yours, what brought you here, Maxon?"

He shrugged, tilting his head slightly. "Unfortunately, it's hard for me to resist being where you are."

Smirking, I replied, "Well, then it must be awful for you that I prefer crowded places over something isolated, like a cemetery."

Maxon shifted uncomfortably, his discomfort evident.

Surprisingly, I managed to render Maxon Stirling speechless. It was quite an achievement.

"How did you know I would be here?" I inquired, breaking the silence.

"It fit your taste." He answered, and I attempt to conceal the smile that crept onto my lips.

"Anyway, I'm glad you came," I said, taking his hand and pulling him along. "Want something to drink?"

He sighed and declined. "No, thanks."

I couldn't help but let out an ironic laugh. "Do you have a problem with drinking?"

He shook his head. "No... I have a problem with people who drink. And today," he added, taking the can from my hand, "I don't want any problems with you. You're already intoxicated enough."

Part of me wanted to assert my female sovereignty, to challenge him for assuming such freedom with me. But another part... well, it simply didn't want any problems with him tonight either.

"Come on, I'm not drunk yet," I playfully retorted.

Maxon licked his lips, his impatience evident. And I couldn't help but notice how attractive he looked in that moment.

Deciding to change the subject, I asked, "Did you reserve a room just for yourself?"

"Did you honestly think I would willingly share a room with some idiot?" he replied with a hint of disdain.

I had momentarily forgotten just how antisocial Maxon could be. And it explained quite a lot.

"And was that the only reason you booked one of the largest rooms on the sixth floor?" I inquired curiously.

"It didn't necessarily have to be one of the largest," he admitted nonchalantly. "The others weren't available for a single guest... Why the question?"

I shrugged, feigning indifference. "Just curiosity."

Taking a deep breath, Maxon crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, his face stern and muscles tense. It was apparent that he despised being in such a lively environment.

"Is there a bathroom in this room?" he finally asked.

"Yes," I replied, swaying my body to the rhythm of the electronic music filling the air. "But I think there's already a couple occupying it..."

"That's all I needed," he muttered.

"Hey!" I grabbed his arms. "You need to relax! Why not try swaying your body a little?" With a playful motion, I moved his arms forward and backward, but he maintained his composure.