Booty Calls And Room Service

‘Don’t you dare hang up on me!’ Kieran’s threat was issued with a gurgle. He was brushing his teeth. ‘I go to work at nine,’ I said. ‘I’m currently staying at the Blue Jazz.’ ‘Don’t go anywhere.’ He ended the call. I stared at my reflection on the screen and recalled, belatedly, Cara’s warning about Kieran. She practically called the man a great white shark and spared no effort in convincing me how dangerous he was. But it was hard to heed her warning when I just saw the ‘shark’ in a state of undress and brushing his teeth like a good little boy. Yet, Cara was seldom wrong. I picked up my phone. Me: You’re not coming here, are you? There’s no need. I’ll be leaving for work soon. You should sleep in. Sorry for waking you up. :) The phone rang as soon as I set it down. The shark was calling. ‘Which room?’ he asked without preamble. ‘What?’ ‘Which room at the Blue Jazz?’ ‘Did you see my text? I don’t think you need to—’ ‘Which room!’ He bellowed into the phone. My ears were ringing. Tsk,