No matter how insanely hot he was or how tempting it might be. He sighed, and without skipping a beat, answered my question.
“Because, without someone forcing me to have fun, there’s a good chance I’ll spend my time holed up in my hotel room, on my laptop, working when I’m supposed to be relaxing,” he said, sounding exasperated with himself. “And that wouldn’t be good for my mental health, trust me.”
Before I could respond, he pressed something into my hand. I looked down and saw that it was a card. Not his business card like i might have expected, but one for a hotel.
My hotel, to be exact.
I didn’t mention that little fact, however. I took the card and waited for an explanation I knew was coming.
“If you decide to take me up on the offer,” he said. “Call me there. Room 209. Or stop
