Love Bird. by Emily. Z. (story read aloud TXT) 📕

I turned, strolling over to the bathroom and grabbing my big fluffy towel that I had taken to the laundry room to bleach a few times before using it - because when it came to hotels, I was the epitome of a germophobe. 

After showering forever, because I didn't have to worry about water bills, I dried my hair, and dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top. I threw my leather jacket over the ensamble, putting my hair into a high ponytail. I was so used to Florida weather that it was strange coming home, where it rained a few days a week and clouds actually covered the sky for more than a few hours into the morning. I was glad that at least I had a warm day today.

I left my room, making sure my key card was still in my jacket pocket. The hallway bustled with activity, as a woman ran by with a huge cart of pillows and blankets, panting. Another nurse who was leaving an empty room with sheets in hand, grumbled to herself, and then called. "Room 50 again?"

"You know it! He thinks the world revolves around him!" The other puffed as she paused to speak to her friend.

"Just because he's planning the ball doesn't mean he's royalty!" The woman snorted.

They both laughed, and I felt a smile tug at my lips. I had heard that the host of the annual Guildertree ball was going to be staying in this hotel for a little while. 

"Excuse me," I murmured, catching both of their attention. 

They brightened immediately. "Yes, Dear, how can we help?" The woman on the left asked, her nametag read Zoey.

I smiled as I approached. "I'm sorry, but I'm out of shampoo and conditioner in my room. I'm going out for a little while, and I was wondering if I could have the bathroom stocked while I was gone?"

"Of course, Dear. It'll be all stocked up when you get back," She gave me a genuine smile that crinkled the corners of her mouth.

Suddenly, two doors down from us, the door flew open, and a man stepped out. "Where are my new sheets?" He complained as soon as he noticed the women.

"R-right away sir!" The woman on the right, whos name tag read Lisbon grimaced, as she began pushing the cart to his room.

"I've been waiting for a whole ten minutes! He complained, stepping out of her way, and throwing up his arms as if to say 'Finally!'. "Do you know how long that is?"

I looked at Zoey and rolled my eyes. She let out a giggle. The man turned when he heard the laugh, and his eyes landed on me. 

"Hello," He said, a smile immediately replacing the frown.

I widened my eyes in disbelief, before turning to Zoey. "Thank you."

"It's no trouble, Dear," She replied with a knowing smile. "You have a nice day."

With that, I walked away, leaving a very confused man. "Hey..wait!" He called, catching up with me. "My name is Jason Dean. And you are...?"

"Jane," I replied.

"Jane. No last name?" He asked, pausing with me as I stopped by the elevators. 

"Nope," I replied flippantly, waiting for the doors to open.

"Hmm," He said with a grin. "A challenge."

"No, clearly this is not an invitation, this is a sign. And no, this is not one of those signs that tell you to drive forth full speed ahead, this is one of those signs that tells you 'Wrong way!' and 'Do Not Enter!'," I told him, watching the elevator numbers impatiently.

"Go out to dinner with me," He said, without any preamble.

With a large sigh as the numbers on the elevator paused, most likely as people were getting off, I turned to him. I studied his features, finding him attractive. Sure, he was pretty with his uniform brown hair, and his pretty blue eyes. But even filling out that suit as good as he did, he didn't come close to those molten golden eyes that could pierce my soul.

"Sorry, but no," I replied, my tone blunt.

Finally, the doors opened, and I stepped in. Unfortunately for me, he followed. "You are amazing!" He laughed, leaning against the wall by my side. "No one has ever turned me down before! I like this."

"I'm sure all of those women were shallow, blonde, blue or brown eyed, and they had an afinity for embesseling money from old rich men," I snickered.

"Of course they were!" He shrugged as if he didn't understand why that was bad. "But sometimes I need a challenge."

"Go find another "Challege." Like a married woman or something. Because you'll have no better chance with me," I muttered, watching as the doors slid open with a sigh of relief.

"Nope. I'm set on you," He told me, blunt.

Rolling my eyes, I turned to him, shot him a salute, and exclaimed in an overly-happy tone, "Good luck with that!"

And I turned, and set off, grumbling to myself about jackasses and their over-confident need to prove themselves as such.

I smiled and hugged the doorman, Mr. Gaits on my way out. He was a sweet old man who was always smiling. 

"Jane!" He chortled, "Going to set out a new puzzle piece?" He asked me.

I laughed. I'd told him that my love was trying to find me, so I set out puzzle pieces for him.

"No, I did that yesterday. Today I'm going to grab him a suit," I chucked him gently on the shoulder. "You have a good day and don't tire yourself."

"Aw," He waved me off. "I may be old, but I ain't cripple!"

Laughing, I nodded. "I know, but it worries me you standing out here all day."

After hugging him one more time, I set off, jumping in my rental car and pulling away from the curb. Now, you may have been wondering where I get the money for these hotels and rental cars. That's easy, I took it from my Dad's emergency account. With what I was going to do to him when I found him, he wouldn't be needing it anymore.

A few blocks away, there was a tux place called Deluxe Tux. My best friend when I was sixteen ran the shop. We still talked now and then, and I convinced him to hear out my plan. He conceded to helping, but only if he got to meet this Victor I told him about.

So instead of just getting the tux and leaving it in his closet (as planned) I gave him the adress of the tux shop and that was why I was headed there now. I was supposed to plan it out before he got there.

As soon as my car pulled to a stop in front of the tux shop, Tarence skipped to my door, pulling it open and dragging me out to give me a huge hug. "I haven't seen you in years!"

I laughed. Tarence and I had been very close friends. We were both outcasts in our family, him having confessed that he was gay, and me having a criminal record. He wasn't one of those guys that openly talked about his sex life, or talked about many men at all, in fact he used to blush when asked out by another guy. But, hanging with me, he did have his moments of oggling some asses with me in magazines that we stole from the convenience store.

"Right?" I laughed, pulling away from him and smacking him on the shoulder. "How've yah been, Yah big lug?" I exclaimed with a bright smile.

"Good, good!" He nodded as he led me inside. "I'm going steady with someone now," And there was his adorable blush.

I gasped, and then pulled my hand from his to clap. "Do tell!" I demanded.

"Well, his name is Vandry...," He trailed off, and I could swear he went a shade darker. 

"Wait, wait, Vandry Connahue?" I asked, my voice in disbelief.

"Yes. You know him?" He asked in surprise.

"I dated him in seventh grade!" I exclaimed. "He's gay?"

Laughing, he nodded. "He came out two years ago."

"Jeez, where have I been?" I muttered to myself as we looked through wracks of tuxes.

"Anyway, he asked me out last year, around christmas time. We dated for eight weeks before Vandry popped the question-,"

"Wait, the question? The big question?" I inturrupted, looking at him with wide eyes.

"No way!" He said, his cheeks going cherry red as he waved his hands in a 'stop right there' movement. "He asked to go steady."

"Oh," I chuckled. "Sorry, go on."

"Long story short," He began with a roll of his eyes. "we've been together for a year and a half, and I don't think I've ever been happier in a relationship - the one thing though, is that he's...a little afraid of commitment." I crinkled my eyebrows in worry. "We're working on it, though!" He said quickly, seeing my expression. "He's already talking about plans for the future, and stuff like that. So it's okay."

I nodded, deciding not to voice my concerns, but instead turning to search for a tux. "So I'm thinking neon blue slacks paired with a bright red jacket," I said thoughtfully.

"Step away from the tuxes!" He exclaimed, his arm sweeping me back.

I laughed, shaking my head. "I'm kidding, moron!"

He grimaced. "I can never tell with you."

I rolled my eyes, pulling out a nice black blazer. "What about this?" I asked. "Paired with a red shirt underneath, and a black tie?" I suggested.

He rubbed at his chin, pictureing it in his mind, before nodding. "Put it on the consideration wrack," He gestured to an empty wrack by the dressing room.

"So what is this going to accomplish?" He called from one of the isles of tuxes.

"What do you mean?" I called back, admiring a dark blue blazer I'd found.

"Didn't you say you and Victor didn't have the greatest talk the last time you saw each other? And what about Logan?" His head popped up over the wrack to look at me.

I shrugged, although I felt a pang of anxiety when Logan's name was mentioned. The last time we'd seen each other, he'd kissed me senseless. "I figure we'll cross that road when we come to it."

I saw his forehead crinkle, before his face disappeared behind the wracks again.

"Your life is more riveting than a soap opera," I heard him mutter.

I laughed, but it was a little hysterical. "Try living it."

***

I watched with an amused smile over my newspaper as Victor passed by. I sat on a bench, my hair tucked into a brown wig, with dark green contacts on. I was sitting next to an old man who smelled very similar to the Port-O-Potties at a Renascence fair I'd gone to with Kent one year. He was sleeping, so I wasn't really worried about him.

Victor was following my next clue - and I could see the giant puzzle piece I had made sticking out of his pocket. I snickered.

I wanted to see his reaction to this clue I'd set out. I had purposely set this one in a bad part of town, right in between a gentlmen's club and and old beaten down motel room where prostitutes were known to hang.

He cautiously walked across the street, re-checking the adress on the letter with an incredulous shake of his head.

He  briefly scanned the area, and his chest lifted as he heaved in a sigh. He went into the alleyway between the buildings, and I waited, laughing under my breath.

A minute later, he came stumbling out, clue in hand, a woman attatched to his arm. I had to hold back howles of laughter as I watched him try to shake off the hooker, shaking his head as he pushed her hand off of him as if it were a rat infested with the plague.

The newspaper crumpled in my