Besides, to hear the girl tell it, she’d never cross the friend-zone line with Jack under any circumstances, so who cared what she looked like?
Thora didn’t answer in favor of smacking a pillow over her head. “Don’t let him in.”
“Okay. I’ll send him away.”
Lilah opened the door and locked gazes with the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen in real life. His eyes held a pinwheel of gold radiating from the dark center to splash across a sea of light green, and she wanted to capture that exact expression on his face, as if he’d caught sight of something he’d been looking for and desperately wanted.
Another guy pushed past her into the room, shattering her perfect moment of clarity. And the shot. Dang it. Except she didn’t even have her camera in her hand, and then Gorgeous Guy smiled, highlighting the most perfect cheekbones in existence, and she forgot how to breathe.
“Hi,” he said and held out a hand. “I’m Fitz. You must be the friend.”
“I’m, uh…” Completely going to owe Thora a huge apology. “Lilah. Houston. That’s my last name. It’s also a city. In Texas. But I’m not like named for it or anything.”
Yeah, that wasn’t perfectly obvious. And she was supposed to be shaking his hand because that was how social conventions worked. Or should, unless you were presented with a beautiful man who looked like the one standing outside her hotel room.
Him, she had no idea what to do with.
“I’m also the friend,” she clarified and grabbed his hand, shaking it a whole lot harder than she’d meant to, but the second their palms connected, a flash of energy invigorated her whole arm.
He either had a lot of practice with awkward women or more natural charm than anyone had a God-given right to, because he slowed everything down in an instant, holding her hand steady as he spoke again in that smooth, deep voice. “Me too. Jack dragged me along for the ride. Can’t say this is what I’d planned to do for my vacation. But here we are.”
That jump-started her brain. “Oh. Right. You’re not the famous Jack whom I’ve heard so much about.”
Which he had just said. Maybe her brain had actually abandoned ship, never to be seen again.
“No.” His hazel eyes twinkled as he finally released her hand. “And that’s probably the first time I’ve ever been confused for him. Hope it’s the last.”
Her palm tingled as she remembered her manners. “Come in. Please.”
She stepped aside, allowing him entrance to the hotel room before realizing that it was way too small for his presence. He dominated the space around him, bleeding charisma and general gorgeousness into the very atmosphere. She couldn’t stop looking at him or itching for her camera.
What had he called himself? Fitz? As in fits of temper?
That’s when she noticed the other guy sitting on the bed, his hand cupping Thora’s face as he feathered a thumb across her cheek. That must be We’re-Just-Friends Jack, though the look on his face as he evaluated Thora had not one iota of friendship in it.
They were murmuring to each other and basically ignoring the rest of the world. Thora hadn’t even glanced her way one time. Apparently the lack of makeup had ceased to be a factor.
“Maybe we should make ourselves scarce.” Fitz suggested from behind her, and goodness did that man’s voice do something to her insides.
Obviously, he’d picked up on the vibe too. She nodded her agreement, though what she might possibly say to him outside of gah or erg remained to be seen. But neither did she want to intrude on what appeared to be a scene involving a man extremely concerned about the health of a woman he cared about.
Also Thora must be blind if she’d never thought about We’re-Just-Friends Jack as something other than a buddy. You know, if you liked guys with broad shoulders and chiseled features who clearly thought you’d hung the moon.
The pool bar wasn’t but a few steps away. Lilah led her gorgeous shadow to the two empty seats near the end.
“So,” she said brightly as she eyed the extremely well-put-together brown-haired man on the next barstool. “You’re much better-looking than I was expecting.”
Yeah, that was a conversation opener all right. She needed a muzzle. Or something.
But he just laughed and signaled the bartender. “I like you already.”
Which honestly could have gone either way. “I’ve been called an acquired taste on more than one occasion.”
His hazel eyes cut to her, and he lost interest in the bartender. Something entirely not safe flashed through his expression, and she wished she had a whole lot more experience reading a man’s subtle cues. She had no idea what that look meant.