| Fan Fiction |
by Eli =)
The previous night she had taken a bath to loosen her stiff muscles, and had almost fallen asleep in the tub. After she finally went to bed, she had slept deeply and had dreams she couldn't remember now. But the dreams didn't really matter. She had gotten a good night's rest and felt terrific.
She took a glance at the bedside clock and told her it was eight in the morning. The sun streaming through the open doors of her room told her it was already a gorgeous day. She stretched, then slid out of bed and headed for the bathroom. A few minutes later she was back in the bedroom, her face washed, her teeth brushed. And craving her first-thing-in-the morning Coke.
She snatched up the ice bucket and left her room. Several steps later it dawned on her that she has gone the wrong direction. She was out on the balcony instead of in the hallway. With a sigh of resignation she started to go back to her room, but the sound of a phone ringing nearby stopped her. Oh gosh, she hated the sound of a ringing phone.
Her brow creased with annoyance, and she looked in the direction of the irritating sound. Farther along the balcony, a set of French doors stood open. Obviously no one was in there, she assumed, or someone would have answered the phone by now. Either that or the person was dead. She frowned as she contemplated this far from cheerful thought.
All the while the phone kept ringing, and each ring was like nails across a chalkboard to her. The caller wasn't going to give up. With a sigh she went to answer it.
She wasn't alone. The realization brought her to a standstill several feet inside the room. A man was sleeping soundly on the king-sized bed. He was laying sprawled on his stomach, a pillow over his head. His only other covering was a sheet that rested just below his waist and molded over his hips. His right leg had escaped the sheet.
She stared uncertainly at him. Judging by the even rise and fall of his back, he appeared to be breathing. That was definitely a plus. But who in the world could sleep through the shrill ringing of a telephone?
The phone rang again. And again. And her nerves jangled with each ring. she had to stop that noise.
"Excuse me," she said to the sleeping man. "Your phone is ringing." No response. "Do you want me to answer your phone?" Still no response. "Okay, then," she said to him, just to make the whole thing official. "I'll answer your phone and take a message for you." She rounded the bed on tiptoes and snatched up the receiver.
"Hello," she whispered. Even though the man was lying on the other side of the bed, she could actually feel the heat of his body on her skin. Still, she felt safe. If a ringing phone couldn't wake him up, the sound of her voice certainly wouldn't.
"Is Gerald there?" a vaguely familiar female voice asked.
Kim glanced at the sleeping figure, and her eyes fell on the corded muscles ridging his back. "I'm not sure."
"Offhand I wouldn't think this was a very difficult question." The voice sounded amused. "Either he is or he isn't."
"Well, you're right about that," Kim said, still gazing at the athletic form. Even though he was asleep and she couldn't see his face, she received the overwhelming impression of masculinity. What was it about this place? she wondered. She hadn't been here but a few hours, and already she had met two sexy men.
Well, she silently amended, she hadn't actually "met" either of them.
"Hello? Are you still there?"
"Oh, Yes. I"m here, and there is also definitely a man here. It's just that I don't know who he is. But don't worry. If you think you dialed the right number, and the number is your friend Gerald's room, then I would think there's a pretty good chance his name is Gerald."
"Let me get this straight. You're in his room, and you don't know his name?"
"Yeah, that's pretty much it. You see, I can't stand the sound of a phone that rings on and on, so I thought - "
"What's he doing?"
"Doing? He's sleeping. Deep. In fact, I've never seen anyone sleep this deep. Personally I can't understand how anyone can sleep through a ringing phone."
The person on the other end of the line sighed. "Look, wake him up for me, will you? I need to talk to him."
The idea of reaching out and touching him - his warm, sleek skin, his muscles that would ripple when he moved - had her feeling weak and lightheaded. She really needed that Coke. "I've already tried to wake him up. I talked to him and everything. I think it would be better if you gave me a message instead, and I'll leave it some place where he can't miss it."
"Oh, all right. This is Erich."
"Erich!" In her excitement, she sank into the bed, holding the ice bucket against her, "Erich, it's me, Kim."
"Kim! I thought your voice sounded familiar."
"I thought yours did too, but I couldn't be sure because I haven't had my morning Coke yet." She crossed her legs, Indian-fashion. "How are you?"
"I'm fine. And you're the reason I was calling Gerald. Your mom called me yesterday, worried. She expected to hear from you days ago."
Kim noticed an open Stephen King book on the pillow. In front of her, along with a pair of glasses. "You didn't tell her where I was heading, did you?"
"Yes. I had to. She was threatening to notify the police."
"Yeah, well, she tends to overreact at times."
"I was beginning to get worried about you, too, Kim. Why haven't you checked in?"
"I just got here last night. I took a few wrong turns."
"Oh."
Kim put down the ice bucket, picked up the glasses, and looked through them, squinting. The vision correction wasn't too bad, she decided. It must be reading glasses.
"Well, you happen to be in Gerald Anderson's bedroom. How did that happen?"
"I was on my way to the soda machine and decided to answer the phone." She turned her head and gazed at the sleeping man through his glasses. Even blurred, he still looked incredibly sexy. "Who's Gerald Anderson?"
"He owns the inn. I'm sure I mentioned his name." She paused. "Your room must be on the third floor."
"It is. They were all booked up when I got here last night, and then this man appeared at my side and nodded to Mikee - he's the young man who was on the desk. Anyway, then Mikee said I could use a room that's reserved for special guests until another one opens up."
"The man who nodded must have been Gerald."
The glasses slipped from her suddenly numb fingers. "You mean I'm sitting on the bed of the man who-"
"Who, what?"
Who she dreamt about. She remembered now. He had dominated her dreams with those tantalizing brown eyes of his, and she had heated when he had touched her. "Uh, the man who gave me the room."
"You sure are. And I'm glad he did. I meant to call him sooner and let him know you were coming and that you were a friend of mine. But this pregnancy has taken all my energy. I keep falling asleep. That is, in between running to the bathroom with morning sickness that lasts all day."
"Gosh, I'm sorry to hear that," Diverted by the subject of her friend's pregnancy, she rested the phone between her ear and her shoulder and idly thumbed through the Stephen King book. "How's Enchong handling it all?"
Erich laughed. "I'm only three months pregnant, and already he's a candidate for a nervous breakdown. You'd think no woman had ever gotten through a pregnancy before. He's treating me as if I were made out of glass."
"What's wrong with a little pampering? Besides, think about it. Enchong must be feeling pretty helpless regarding the whole situation, and pampering you is about the only thing he can do, at least until the baby is born."
Erich laughed once again. "I guess you're right."
Kim bent closer to the book and read a particularly horrific line. "Your friend Gerald must have nerves of steel if his reading habits are anything to go by." She turned a few pages and read another line at random.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because-"
"Don't lose my place."
Kim almost jumped out of her skin. She jerked in the direction of the husky voice and found that the pillow no longer covered his head. More importantly, she was gazing into a pair of deep brown eyes. The eyes in her dreams. The man in her dreams. "He's awake now," she whispered to Erich.
"Good. Put him on."
"Are you Gerald?" she asked him, still whispering.
He took the phone from her hand. "Erich? Hi. I hear Enchong's having a bad time of it." He kept his gaze on Kim as he listened for a minute, then softly chuckled. "Tell him I said it couldn't be happening to a more deserving guy. I can't wait to see him change diapers."
Kim began to ease off the bed, but his long arm snaked out and his hand clamped around her wrist, keeping her where she was. He listened again. "Yeah, your friend got here. You really should have warned me." He laughed at the answering retort. "Don't worry. If I have to, I'll assign a bodyguard to her and increase my insurance." He laughed again. "Okay, okay, I'll talk to you in a few days. In the meantime, tell Enchong hi." He paused. "Okay, bye." Still holding her arm. He reached past Kim and hung up the phone.
Then he turned his attention to her. She was sitting cross-legged on his bed. Her hair was a tousled, haze around her face and shoulders. Her eyes no longer shadowed with fatigue. Her skin was golden and gleamed as if it had a satin finish. He had never seen anyone or anything more beautiful. So much for steering clear from her.
"Can I help you?"
She stared at him blankly. "Help me?"
"You're in my room, sitting on my bed. I assume there's a logical reason."
"Oh, yeah. You see, I needed a Coke, and I heard your phone, and I didn't know you were here, and if you were, there was a good possibility that you were dead, because after all, who could sleep-"
Her curiosity sidetracked her. "How on earth can you possibly sleep so soundly? At home, if I can't answer my phone in two rings, my answering machine is set to pick up."
He released her, rolled over, arranged several pillows behind him, and maneuvered upward until he was lying back against them. "There aren't too many things that will wake me up, I don't generally wake up before ten."
"You miss an awful lot of the morning that way."
"That's the way I like it."
She snatched up the ice bucket and clutched it to her, but she was bolted to the spot. Surprising, tantalizing, looking at him, images danced in her head. "Think frying pan and fire, Kim," she muttered under her breath.
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing. I've got to go now." She slid off the bed and began backing away. "I'm really sorry I woke you up, but I came here for peace, and the incessant sound of your phone was not peaceful. Besides, you know, I figured it must have been important because the caller wouldn't hang up, and as it turns out, the caller was Erich. Wasn't that a coincidence?"
His eyes were hooded as he followed her with his stare.
She reached the doors. "But, listen, I really am sorry. Why don't you just go back to sleep and forget I was ever here?" She would also try to forget, but she seriously doubted she had that much power over her thoughts. She took a step out onto the balcony. "Bye."
Then she remembered something and stuck her head back in. "Is there a soda machine on this floor?"
"No."
She turned and hurried across the balcony to her room.
Gerald rolled over and buried his head beneath the pillows. What in the heck was wrong with him? The woman was dangerous and needed a keeper, but he wanted no part of it. As soon as he got up, he was going to make plans for heading to Catalina.