Once back at the hotel, Reggie packed his trophy and most of his clothes, separating the things he’d take to London. He checking the carryon bag many times, double-checking everything, puzzled. Was he taking too much? Or too little? He had a change of clothes, a light jacket, and his dopp kit full of toiletries.
No pajamas.
Pajamas were synonymous with too many things, like home, intimacy, and something real. He didn’t want to delude himself. He could sleep in a T-shirt and boxers. Even though London wasn’t the warmest place in the world, it was the end of June, after all.
Somebody knocked on the door. Quickly he stuffed everything in his hand into his carryon without a thought.
Carlos entered. “Hey, champion. If your flight’s at five, we should hurry up.”
Five! Reggie’s heartbeat inc
