Musical Chairs

This is ridiculous, thinks Amanda as she closes her hotel room for the second — or is it third? — time. She’d thought she’d heard Lee’s door open at least once since the shower in Francine’s room started to run, but when she checked, there’d only been an empty hallway.

It’s worse than musical chairs.

She should, she knows, just get ready for bed. It’s late. They have a full schedule in the morning.

Instead, she still stands by the door, listening for footsteps, for anything, in the hallway.

Lee’s been so distant ever since Joe came back into town. Tonight, though, especially toward the end, he’d almost been his old flirtatious self, to the point he actually made a pass at her. A pass! At her!

What kind of field work?

You know.

Oh, yes. She knows. And she’d been sending a message when she’d invited him into her room for coffee. Neither one of them cares for decaf.

Francine’s shower shuts off, and the hallway outside is still quiet. Amanda shakes her head. Why is she still standing at the door? The moment had passed as quickly as it came; there will be no pointed — if indirect — questions tonight. Why has Lee been so distant? Does he actually think she’d ever even consider getting back together with Joe?

Doesn’t he know her better than that by now?

All right, Amanda tells herself. One more time. Then I’m going to bed, no matter what. Even if, she decides, she doesn’t sleep because she’s thinking too much about this.

Careful to keep the hinges from squeaking, she cracks the hotel room door and peers out toward Lee’s. It’s just a crack. She’s not going to stick her head out this time, especially since there’s probably nothing to see —

Then her eyes flick up, and meet Lee’s. His door’s cracked open about the same distance as hers.

They stare at each other, neither moving, until Amanda suddenly needs to breathe. Exhaling softly and silently, she opens her door another two inches. Still not all the way, but enough to be clearly visible.

His eyes light up and his mouth falls open slightly, but a moment after that, he’s in the hallway, making sure to lock his door. Amanda steps aside to let him through her own door —

And finds herself pushed back against that door, his hand closing over hers to throw the latch. Before she can make a sound, his mouth is on hers, gentle but hot, sweet but demanding, overwhelming yet achingly familiar. Yes. This was what they’d both been thinking about, and both of them know it.

His hands cradle her head as he deepens the kiss, and she responds wholeheartedly, wrapping her arms around his waist to pull him closer. It isn’t a moment to think about, or analyze. It’s one to be felt, and she’s more than willing. Questions can come later.

The tip of Lee’s tongue teases her lips, and she parts them in reply, unable to keep a whimper from slipping out when she does so. She’s nearly forgotten what it’s like to kiss him, and doing it like this? Without cover of darkness or a case? It’s so much better than she remembers.

He presses against her, deepening the kiss even further, whispering against her mouth, and she can’t hold back another moan. This is amazing. It’s glorious. Why have they waited so long to —

Then she hears what he’s whispering.

He can’t have you. Not now. Not this time. Tell him it’s too late. He can’t go —

Amanda shoves him away hard. They’re both gasping as they break apart.

She finds her voice first. “Is that what you’ve been thinking?”

Lee blinks. “What?”

“Don’t pretend with me, Lee Stetson! You’re only over here because you’re afraid I’m back with Joe!”

“It’s not that simple —”

“I think it is.” She pushes off the door, stalking past him into the middle of the hotel room. She needs space.

He follows, but doesn’t reach for her. “Amanda, wait —”

“No.” She whirls, facing him. “No. If you don’t know me better than that by now, then you don’t know me at all!” She shakes her head, unsure if she’s more embarrassed or angry. “And if — if —” if this is what it takes to actually get you to do something, maybe we’re both imagining things! “I’m not some prize to be fought over, especially because Joe’s not fighting!”

“No, Amanda, that’s not —”

She can feel tears threatening now, and darn it, she is not going to let Lee see those. Amanda paces back to the door, opening it wide, though she keeps her voice down. “We have an early morning. Go get some sleep.”

He takes a breath before nodding. “All right. And I’m — I’m sorry — it’s not —”

“Lee,” she interrupts, and she’s suddenly exhausted. Bone-deep weariness. “Just — good night. All right?”

He pauses just outside her door, looking back with an expression that’s equal parts guilty, forlorn, and accepting. “Good night, Amanda. Sleep well.”

After closing and locking the door, she falls against it again, but this time it’s forward, leaning her forehead against it while she tries to process what just happened. Musical chairs, indeed! More like a game of duck-duck-goose on uneven ground, the kind where everyone ends up tripping and falling before it’s over.

Wow, she thinks. You’re really reaching with that metaphor, Amanda. Maybe you’re more tired than you thought.

She pushes back up to a stand, sighing heavily. The most ridiculous part of the past several minutes is that it really is late, and they really do have a busy day ahead.

Maybe, she reflects as she starts to undress, that’s a good thing.

If they’re busy, they won’t have to talk about what’s happened tonight. She’s not ready to do that. She has no idea when she will be.

Not if this is the way things are going.

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