23 - No Room for Discussion

Tony wheeled her suitcase into a hotel room that looked just like any other hotel room, despite the fact that it was in the Intercontinental.  Oh, and that it was his.  And that there was only one king-sized bed.  And that there was no sofa. 

The overwhelming presence of that single bed got her mind to reeling, making her thankful that she’d managed to eat and take a couple more ibuprofen before he came knocking at her door.  But with the way he’d been acting, she was afraid to blurt out the questions – one question, really – that was now echoing loudly in her head. 

We’re sleeping in the same bed?

He’d been unusually – in her experience with him – quiet on the taxi ride from the Hippodrome.  Other than asking for the details of the attack, which she only grudgingly provided in the vaguest of details, he didn’t say much of anything.  He was probably still annoyed that it had taken so long to bully her into staying with him. 

After his shocking declaration about the remainder of the tour, she had been both flabbergasted and touched, but staunchly stood her ground, refusing to submit to his belief that she needed a babysitter.  It had almost come to the point of a Mexican standoff when he gave all appearances of abruptly backing down.

They key word being ‘appearance’.

“If that’s the way you want it, then I’ll just spend the night here.  Woulda been nice to have a shower and some clothes that don’t reek of sweat, but if you don’t mind the smell, that’s cool.”

With that, he plopped into the room’s only chair and slouched down into the cushions.  With a sluggish swipe over the nape of his neck, Tony took his time in crossing his legs and allowed his head to loll against the padded back of the chair. 

It was borderline melodramatic, but had exerted just enough pressure on her guilt button to have Lilah re-thinking her stance.  She didn’t want him – or anybody, for that matter – making changes in plans because of her. 

The pronounced cracking of bone as he wearily twisted his neck back and forth had her asking herself what difference it made where she slept tonight. 

However, she did make it clear that this was a one-night only thing just to get him out of her hotel room and into some clean clothes.  After this, she fully intended honor her current hotel reservations throughout Europe.

His only response had been to shove to his feet with a non-committal grumble, and tell her he would be waiting at the front door of the hotel in ten minutes.  From his further grumbling, she gathered that he needed a smoke “in the worst way”.   

Now, on the fifth floor of Istanbul’s finest hotel, he mutely guided her luggage to a spot beside the dresser where his own black duffel lay open.  Leaving her to drop her computer case in the desk chair, Tony reached a hand into his bag and fished out what looked to be a pair of gym shorts and dark t-shirt. 

The stiffly set jaw and terse lines squiggling across his forehead had her nerves dancing a little bit.  She was starting to feel like a teenager who had been taken into the custody of an unwilling guardian, and it kind of ticked her off.  This had been his idea, not hers.  

Showing much more restraint on her smart mouth than she had with Jon earlier in the day, Lilah leaned against the wall and crossed her ankles.  The denim of the jeans she was now wearing scuffed against her white leather Keds and she crossed her arms over Jon’s face on the front of her t-shirt before remarking, “You’ve been awfully quiet.”

“You told me to stop yelling at you.”

The reply was uttered so immediately and in such a monotone voice that she was temporarily put off by it.  Her mouth opened and closed while her mental circuits flipped through a catalog of questions, rapidly deciding which one was most pertinent.

“You’re still mad?”

The muscle in his jaw ticked with anger, delivering the answer ahead of his verbal admission.  “More than I was before.”

“Why?”

His clothes went from folded to wadded when his right hand curled into a fist.  “Because I don’t fucking understand you, that’s why!  You have my phone number.  Why didn’t you call me?  Or at least tell me about it instead of hiding it?”

It was a question she’d been half-expecting.  A perfectly natural reaction to feeling helpless, she supposed, was to pretend that the opportunity to ‘do’ something had been taken away.  Her sigh was inaudible she answered with a quiet, “Because there was nothing to be done but move on.”

He clenched his back teeth, making the line of his jaw rigid as stone.  “You’re an idiot.  You could be lying dead in a fucking back-alley somewhere and for some reason that’s not worth mentioning.”

Lilah felt a sharp stab in her chest where his insult cut her.  It hurt worse than either of the knife wounds from the night before. 

“I’d rather you yell than call me names,” she informed him, chin lifted proudly at the same time her mouth flattened.  “And I’m not ‘dead in a fucking back-alley somewhere’.”

“But you could be!”

“But I’m not!  Stop bitchin’ at me about somethin’ that didn’t happen.”

With each exchange he inched closer and closer until Lilah was forced tilt her head back to see his face.  Mere inches above hers, vibrant blue eyes were snapping like live power lines, his mouth screwed into an unpleasant scowl.  He was so close that the moist heat of his breath washed over her cheeks.

“You are the most goddamned stubborn woman…” 

The low growl was borne of frustration, but it was so quiet and in such intimate proximity that it affected her.

“No,” she murmured over a shiver.  “I’m really not.” 

Lilah was a little overwhelmed by the bulk of his body so close to hers.   He was all but surrounding her with his presence.  Yes, he’d kissed her that one time, but there hadn’t been this kind of energy flowing  between them.  It was creating chill bumps…  everywhere.

Lilah Jane, he’s upset with you.  Don’t go gettin’ turned on by it!

He let his chin drop to his chest with a soft curse before spinning on his heel.  “I’m gonna take a shower,” Tony nearly barked.  “Will you call and ask them to send up a rollaway bed?”

That answers your question about the sleeping arrangements.

Her shoulders slumped when the tension eked out of the taut muscles there, along with maybe a bit of disappointment.  Biting back a huff of disgust at her errant libido, she let the back of her head ‘thunk’ dully against the wall and dredged up an ounce of politeness.

“Of course.”

She doubted he even heard her before the bathroom door closed.

✧✧✧

July 9, 2011

To: aussie_angel; Morgan_Prince

FROM: misslilahjane

First, let me preface this by saying that I’m not doing crack, smoking weed or under the influence of any other mind-altering drugs. 

As I write this, I’m sitting in a room at the Intercontinental Hotel.  Not a penthouse suite, not even a deluxe room, but it has WiFi (thank you, Jesus) and a comfortable king size bed.  It’s a far cry from the modest (crappy) accommodations that the Hippodrome Hotel had to offer.  Why, you might ask, did I switch hotels?  One of New Jersey’s very persistent sons decided I needed a traveling companion throughout the remainder of my European adventure.

So, yeah, I said all that when I could have really just said, “I’m staying in Tony’s hotel room with him.”

*holds hand to heart*

Get your minds out of the gutter!!  It’s all very non-raunchy and non-sexual, so don’t go there.  I’m like a freaking deer in headlights.  I thought maybe saying it “out loud” would bring me back to my senses, so I’m sending out a quick e-mail while he’s in the shower. 

*face palm*

What the hell am I DOING here??

Lilah repeated the question to herself as she stole a glance at the closed bathroom door.  He had been in there for a long time now, it seemed.  Long enough to make the requested phone call to the front desk and be assured that housekeeping would be right up, trade her jeans for her pajama pants and squirrel her bra away into her suitcase, and dash off a quick e-mail to the online girls.  She would call Jo for a long overdue chat from the airport tomorrow.

How long does a man’s shower take?

She was getting antsy, wondering if he was now avoiding her and her annoying personality.   Or if he needed this long to cool his temper?  Or…  She was ready to wind up into a thousand other ‘or’ scenarios when the blessed reprieve came disguised as a knock on the door.  Housekeeping had arrived with the rollaway.

Bare feet squished in the carpet when she padded over to the door, and popped up on tip-toe to squint out the peephole.  Then she dejectedly sank to her heels.  That sinking extended well-beyond her heels into her stomach. 

It wasn’t housekeeping.

It was Jon. 

Did she answer the door, or not?  It wasn’t her room, and the man who was probably paying for it might not appreciate her being here.

Tony practically dragged you here.  You’re not an intruder.  Answer it!

Taking a deep breath, she decided that she owed him an apology, anyway, and swung the door wide.

“Where the hell did you-“  It took him that many words to unglue his attention from an invisible point down the hall to the open doorway and register that it wasn’t his brother standing there.  “You're not Tony.”

Trying her damnedest not to be insulted by the way his face hardened as his eyes raked over her bare feet and pajamas, she smiled congenially.  “Hello, Jon.  He’s in the shower.”  Taking a step backward, she invited, “D’you wanna come in and wait?  I think he should be about finished…”

“I…”  A flash of uncertainty crossed his face, which she found oddly out of character.  Wasn't he the man who went at everything with no reservation?  “I don’t wanna intrude.”

“No intrusion.”  Leaving him to catch the door, she took the few steps necessary to resume her seat at the desk.  The chair swiveled to the left under her weight and she felt her ponytail swing the momentum.  “I was just emailing a friend.”

“Jesus,” he ground out after the door closed.  She looked up to find his face covered with... Not disgust, really, but something in that neighborhood.  “What the hell happened to your neck?”

Brilliant move as always, there, Madame Awkward. Why would you let him see that side of you?  

“Oh, this?” she asked, touching casual fingertips to the still-tender slices and playing it off.  “I cut myself shaving.”

“That looks like – “

“Jon," she interrupted gently.  "These kinda things beg people to ask questions they really don’t wanna know the answers to.  You don’t have to be polite.  I, however, owe you an apology for this afternoon.  I didn’t mean to appear rude or ungrateful, but I... wasn’t feeling very well.  That was very much out of character for me, and I’m truly sorry for being a bitch.”

Jon was spared - or maybe it was Lilah who was spared - the obligation of replying when the bathroom doorknob turned and Tony emerged.  She always got a bit of a thrill upon seeing him, but this time she considered him nothing short of a blessing.  Mad at her or not, his presence served as a buffer.

“Jon, what’s up?”  Tony’s brow wrinkled with concern and he slicked a hand over his wet hair. 

“I came to see why you hightailed it out and left your shit to the crew.”

Lilah fidgeted under Jon's discerning gaze, feeling very much in the way.  “I can go downstairs if you two want some privacy,” she offered, anxious to be away from the man who still considered her a...  

Cockroach?  

“No.”  Tony’s reply was almost harsh.  “I need a smoke anyway.  We’ll go downstairs or to Jon’s room.  Did you call for the rollaway?”

“Yes.”

He slipped on a pair of shoes while Jon quietly watched the two of them with interest. 

“Thanks.  I won’t be long.”

“Take as long as you want.  I’ll be fine.” 

Tony picked up his room key and cigarettes from the dresser, and both men departed without another word, leaving Lilah to bury her head in the laptop screen.  With a heavy sigh, she clicked on the first of two unread emails, intent upon burying the feelings of rampant inadequacy Jon continually provoked in her.  The quirky part of her would love to tell her two Jon girls that he just left her hotel room, but she was afraid she’d already told more Bongiovi stories than she should.  

July 9, 2011

To: misslilahjane

FROM: Morgan_Prince

Have I ever told you I hate it when you drag out the details in fourteen paragraphs? The one relevant paragraph, sentence really, is simply "I'm staying in Tony's hotel room with him."

Having said that....WTF?  You're delusional if you think it's non-raunchy and non-sexual.  No man shacks up with a woman without 'raunchy' or 'sexual’ coming into play.  HELLO!  Not that there's anything wrong with that, but the fact that YOU DON'T SEE IT is of concern to me.  What the hell is going on over there?   I'm all for a little harmless fun and riding motorcycles with hot men you don't really know...but now you've kinda sorta crossed a line....we don't know one thing about this guy.   Why is he putting you in HIS hotel room without the benefit of raunchy sex?  Seriously!   *sniff sniff* Something stinks...what are you NOT telling me? Because any idiot would know there's more to this story.

She sighed again, disappointed that the ever-perceptive Morgan had sensed something more was at play than a rampant case of lust.  The situation must have been truly transparent, because even Angel remarked on it.  It wasn’t with the same blatant skepticism as Morgan, but still…

July 9, 2011

To: misslilahjane

FROM: aussie_angel

What the...WHAT?????  You're sharing a room with Tony???  You go from spending the day backstage with him to sharing a room???  You're leaving out details that I NEED!!  Omg Li-Lee!  What have you done with my super independent friend?  Why did he decide you needed a travelling companion?  What have you not told me?  Are you THAT great of a kisser?  Hmm?  *giggles*  You are full of surprises these last few days, Miss Li.  I NEED more details!  Hurry UP!  !!!!!!!!!!!

!!!!!!!!!

~A~

PS)  Does he snore?  *wink*

When she wanted her friends to be blindly happy with what she said, they instead questioned what she didn’t say.  That was just too bad in this case.  She refused to offer them the faintest clue about what happened at the bazaar, because they would only worry and smother her with electronic concern.  Take Tony, for instance.  He didn’t even know her and had some warped sense of responsibility, despite the fact there was nothing he could do about it.  

The electronic buzzing of the telephone echoed loudly against the desk, sounding like an air raid siren in the quiet hotel room and causing Lilah to jump in her seat. 

“Shit,” she breathed, with a hand clasped to her chest as she reached for the receiver.  “Hello?”

“Yes, this is housekeeping," a heavily accented voice greeted her.  "I regret to inform you that we are unable to locate a spare rollaway bed at this late hour.  I am very sorry for the inconvenience.”