it’s a love story, baby just say yes

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“‘Cause Harry’s just marvellous, ain’t he?” Robbie drawled, rolling his eyes. He slung his arm over Zoya’s shoulders, steering her in the direction of the hotel doors.

At this rate, with Zoya’s stop-and-start motions repeating themselves every time yet another brilliant idea popped into her head, the two of them wouldn’t be able to get to their room until well past midnight. He had to recalibrate, get them back on track. 

“How about we can do whatever you want if ye agree to get your arse into the lift?” he teased her, smirking when she continued to rattle on about all the grand plans she had for them once they got back to their hotel room.

Truth be told, he liked the idea of a cozy robe and complimentary slippers and ordering whatever the fuck they wanted from the room service menu. He was starving and the idea of a concierge pushing a little cloth-covered trolley into their room was more than appealing, especially since it would create the illusion that Robbie was the kind of man who did shit like this often, instead of it being a once in a blue moon occasion.

“Zoya,” he chided, throwing his head back with a laugh as she began bouncing around and pleading for a dance party, dangerously close to sticking the head in him and giving him a rubber lip. It wouldn’t be the first time Zoya’s enthusiasm had ended up with a body count.

Hands gripping her hips to balance her, he snorted out another laugh.

“Christ, Nadar, I’ll even do one of Buddy’s tap dance routines for you if it gets you up to the room,” he urged her.

Eyeing her carefully, he figured it was time to bring out the big guns. Holding her gaze, he smirked and reached into the pocket of his jacket, tugging out his weapon of choice. Holding the bag of M&M’s in front of her face, he drew her attention to them and then began shaking them.

“C’mon, Zoya. Y’want the candy, don’t ye?” he said, walking backwards towards the lift and making a show of guiding her in that direction, like he was training an overly enthusiastic puppy.

She let herself be guided through the lobby of their hotel and towards the lifts, nodding happily as he promised her anything she wanted. Being friends with Robbie was so easy, she thought. He was always so nice and made her feel warm inside, his teasing manner always sparking a giggle out of her, her nose almost semi-permanently scrunched when he was by her side. Other girls regularly told her how charming Robbie was, and she did see it! She’d always thought he was so handsome and lovely, ever since they were little. He’d been the cutest boy in the school, and she’d delightedly prattled on to her parents about him from that very day, and she hadn’t stopped since. He was her favourite in the whole world. 

As she daydreamed – or night dreamed? What was it called when it was nighttime, but you’re awake? –  about the dance party she’d just concocted in her mind, Zoya released a shrill, delighted giggle when she felt the press of Robbie’s hands on her. She was clad in a semi-transparent, cropped halter top that she’d found when out shopping with Rae. She thought the yellows and purples had looked so pretty on her soft brown skin, the colours accenting each other so wonderfully, and she’d paired it with a ruffled mini-skirt in a similar shade of yellow. She thought she looked really cute! And as Robbie’s fingers brushed her exposed skin, she wondered what he thought of her outfit? Perhaps she’d ask him, once her tummy stopped doing strange little flips and her head stopped spinning. Maybe she’d had more to drink than she remembered? That had to be it. 

“That’s cheating!” Zoya playfully scolded, snapping free from her reverie as her best friend started rattling a bag of M&M’s in front of her face. 

She felt like a naughty kitten being coaxed out from under its owner’s bed, caught burrowing away somewhere it shouldn’t be. Only, unlike a kitten, she knew exactly what game Robbie was playing and she was happily playing right into his hands! 

Rolling her eyes fondly, she followed him happily into the lift before pinching her thumb and forefinger around the edge of the bag, snatching it out of his grasp as she immediately tore it open. Triumphant, Zoya slumped against Robbie, her back hitting his chest as she rummaged around inside the back, shovelling candy into her gob and only occasionally offering him the bag as well. By the time they reached their floor, she’d made her way through a quarter of the bag already and could feel her veins buzzing from the sugar rush. Now she was definitely dance party ready. 

Stepping out into the hallway, she redirected her gaze to their room door, which was thankfully just a few strides from the lift. Robbie really had nailed all the planning! Eyeing him curiously, Zoya used her free hand to start patting Robbie down in search of their room key. Her hand slid down his chest with no sign of pocket in his shirt, and instead moved to the front of his jeans. Feeling at a loss when the key didn’t make itself known, she wrapped her arms around her best friend’s middle, inadvertently pulling him in for a cuddle as her hand slipped easily into his back pocket. 

“I can’t find our key, but I did find your cute bum,” Zoya announced, feeling quite pleased with her findings. It wouldn’t be great if they couldn’t get inside, but she wasn’t about to complain about touching a butt. 

“Nah, you’re right, I suppose. They were good craic,” Robbie mused, slipping his hand into Zoya’s so he wouldn’t lose her in the crowd as they left the venue.

He knew Flynn and Rae would be just as firmly attached, so he stopped looking around for them and focused on his best pal instead. He reached up to cover her head with his hand, just in time to stop her getting whacked by a foam finger being waved around by an overzealous fan.

As they said their goodbyes to the happy couple they’d come here with, Robbie couldn’t help but smirk as they headed back to their hotel. It was only a hop, skip and a jump away from the venue, a real golden ticket of an accommodation spot and when Zoya had asked him how he’d managed to land them a room there, he’d just shrugged, acted humble and declared that he’d gotten lucky. He hadn’t seen any reason to tell her that he’d successfully managed to enter the company’s intranet from his own laptop, deleting another booking in the process and handing the room key right over to him and Zoya. He was sure that guy whose name had been on the room before wouldn’t be too pressed when they turned him away. Zoya was wearing heels! She couldn’t walk far with those on her feet. It was a matter of chivalry.

“How much sugar have ye had, chick?” he teased Zoya, obediently bending down to counteract their height difference so she could push his hair back. It had been plastered sweatily against his forehead, betraying him as the kind of man who did dance and jump around at a concert he’d previously claimed to be indifferent about. It wasn’t his fault that the songs were catchy and that Poppy Martin was a wee ride.

(Never mind. That voice in his head sounded too much like Keegan.)

He grinned down at Zoya.

“Don’t forget you’re drinkin’ with the Irish. We’re gonna need more than ‘so much’ alcohol. Get the wine, get the champagne. Anythin’ looks too expensive and we’ll foot the bill to Harry’s credit card,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets then leaning sideways to bump his shoulder against hers.

“Sound good, nighthawk?” He’d bet any money she’d crash before midnight.

She especially enjoyed the cutesy way that he always called her chick, knowing that it had a much cuter connotation than when American guys referred to girls as chicks. 

“I don’t think it’s the sugar we should be worried about,” Zoya grinned, lifting a hand as she placed her forefinger to his lips in a shushing motion. As though the two of them were both in on a little secret, even if she wasn’t sure what that secret supposedly was. 

She giggled sweetly as his moustache tickled her finger, crinkling her nose at the way it somehow felt soft and scratchy against her skin. She’d never kissed a guy with a moustache before, but she would bet the people Robbie slept with laughed a lot. 

“And Harry won’t mind, because he loves me and thinks I’m the cutest,” Zoya nodded obediently, echoing the words that Robbie so often told her. She wasn’t entirely sure if there was any truth to it, but she’d yet to find herself in Harry’s bad books. He liked a pretty face, and Robbie was positive his friend had a wee soft spot for her, as he liked to put it! Everything was wee, but especially Zoya, who happened to be the littlest of all. 

Feeling light and breezy – but then again, when didn’t she? – Zoya looped her arm with Robbie’s and started to direct him towards the entrance to their hotel. She still couldn’t get over how nice it was and made a mental note to ask him more questions about it when she wasn’t the teeniest bit tipsy and also reliving the high of Diego Rodriguez taking his shirt off and throwing it into the crowd. She hadn’t been anywhere near close enough to catch it, but she and Robbie had enjoyed the view anyway! 

“Wait... Can we wear the complimentary dressing gowns? And the slippers? And, oh! Can we have a dance party too?” Zoya bounced on the spot, giving his bicep a squeeze as she pushed up onto her tiptoes for the second time. Her nose brushed his jawline as she teetered on the spot, wobbling against the hotel doorframe. She suddenly had visions of the two of them wearing nothing but cotton and twirling around the room to her Maggie Chance playlist. “Please? Pretty please.” 

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