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29

I'm standing on the terrace, on the top of the hotel.

It's dark now.

I spent most of my day rotting in my bed. After Austin's call, I couldn't bring myself to do anything. He wants money that I don't have, which means I'd either have to have to take out a loan or have dirt smeared on my already plummeting reputation.

The warm wind blows in my face, making the front strands of my hair go crazy.

I hear the door crack open. I turn around to find Xander closing the door.

An annoyed sigh leaves me at the sight of him.

He doesn't notice me at first, lifting a cigarette. Only when he lifts his head after inhaling. His eyes lock on me as he blows out the smoke.

I turn around, giving him my back without saying anything. I'm in no mood to deal with him.

He leans onto the rail, facing the city. He's just a foot away from me. Too close for my liking.

I turn around to walk away, but his hand latches onto my elbows, stopping me.

"What?!" I face him, angered. I'm not in the mood for his stupid games.

"What's got you so sour?" He grumbles, a frown marring his features.

I roll my eyes, turning around to yank my arm out of his grip and walk away, but his grip is like a vice.

"Why don't you talk to me?" His voice Carrie's a hint of annoyance.

"Are you serious?" I say, appalled at him, that he thinks it's okay to stand me up, then act like nothing happened.

"What?" He looks at me like he has no clue what I'm talking about.

"You stood me up," I almost yell, then tone my voice down to a lower sound. "You told me to wait for you, only for you to fucking stand me up."

An unknown look crosses his face, but it vanishes as soon as it appears, the look of indifference falling back into its place.

"Is that what it's about?" He says, sounding bored, and lets go of my arm.

"Yes!" I say. "You don't get to jerk me around with your stupid mind games. One moment you want me, the next you don't, then you want me again, telling me to wait for you and you stand me up."

"I had stuff," he says simply, taking a puff from the cigarette. It's only now that I catch the smell of marijuana.

"What stuff?" I ask, my voice sounding bored, not interested in his bullshit.

"None of your fucking business," his voice comes out harsh, infuriating me all the more.

"Yeah, you're right," I say, whirling around and walking to the door. "Fucking asshole," I say, as I walk away, loud enough for him to hear.

I march through the empty corridors of the luxury hotel, mad at everything.

I hear footsteps behind me and know it's Alexandre following me.

"Can you fucking stop?!" His aggravated voice booms through the hall.

I reach the elevator, the doors opening. I press the button as quickly as possible, so the doors close before he reaches. And they do. They close right in his face.

As it goes down one floor, and the doors open, I'm met with Alexandre's face.

I wish he wasn't this pretty. It's unfair, that people like him get to look like this.

An amused expression is now on his face, contrary to the one just minted ago.

He's fucking bipolar.

I storm past him, speed walking to reach my hotel room. In no time I'm in front of my door, looking for my key card, but it's in vain. I put it into my back pocket, but it's not there anymore.

"Dammit," I mutter.

I turn around to go back to the elevator but am met with Alexandre standing right in front of me, scaring the living shit out of me. I mean I knew he probably followed me, but didn't know he would be that close.

I go to step around him, but he takes a step to the right, blocking my way. I take a step to the right, and he to the left. After three more times, I let out an annoyed sigh, looking at him.

"Why can't you just leave me alone?!" I express, done with him. I'm, honestly, not in the mood for this shit.

"'Cause I don't want to," he simply says. "Lost your keys?" He says, amused, an annoying smile playing on his lips.

God, I want to punch him. I need to punch somebody.

"No," I fold my arms over my chest. His eyes travel south, to my boobs, that are pushed up by my folded arms. "Quit staring," I sneer, pulling my arms.

His eyes lift to mine.

"You can sleep with me tonight," he says, the double meaning evident.

"You wish."

He leans against the opposite wall of my door, his hands in his pockets, a smirk on his lips, giving me those 'fuck me' eyes of his.

"Okay," he holds his hands up. "I'm sorry about blowing you off. Some stuff came up."

"And you didn't have the decency to call me?" The words leave my lips quicker than I think. It's only when I hear them, that I realize how I sound. I sound like a girlfriend, which I'm not. Not even close.

I stop my train of thoughts. I don't have to be his girlfriend for him to respect me. I deserve to be respected.

"You can't stay out here all night," he tells me.

"I can easily get a new key, idiot," I mutter.

"They won't give you the key unless you have an ID," he says, that damn smirk not leaving his face. "Unless someone vouches for you," he adds.

"You're lying."

"I'm not. You can check for yourself."

I don't say anything.

I know he won't vouch for me. I can't ask his manager. It's an ungodly hour.

He walks to the door next to mine, and swipes his key card, unlocking it. He pushes the door open, standing at the entrance, not walking in. He gestures for me to walk in.

"You're not gonna wait till the morning, are you?" He says. "My offer won't stand for long."

I glare at him, then huff, walking into his room.