Page 51 of The Music of Us
We headed into the elevator and Jake punched a number on the panel. With the two of us inside, it felt too hot, and I looked forward to reaching his floor, but when the elevator doors opened and we walked out, it still felt stifling.
“It’s stuffy in here,” I remarked as I followed Jake to his room. The summer sun had baked down on the building all day, and though it was cool outside, the top floor felt too warm and full of stale air.
Jake paused, studying me for a minute before swiveling around and walking in the opposite direction. “I have an idea.”
“What is it?”
He turned, looking back at me over his shoulder, eyes dancing. “Trust me?”
“Not a chance,” I retorted. Jake took in my face and smiled. Why was he—
Oh. I was grinning. I hadn’t even realized it at first, not until he looked at me like that.
Jake moved down the hall without explanation, the soles of his boots soundless on the carpet as he turned a corner sharply, leading me down another near-identical hall.
And I followed, because the thing about Jake’s ideas was—no matter how reckless and spontaneous they may be—they’ve always been hard to resist.
“Here,” Jake said, coming to a stop in front of a white door at the end of the hall, with a keypad attached to the handle.
I studied the unmarked door, unimpressed. “Here?”
“Here,” he confirmed, leaning over and thoughtfully running his fingers over the silver numbers on the pad. “Let’s see if this passcode works.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
He gave me a grave look. “Then get ready to run.”
Jake held his serious expression until I snorted, and the faux intensity on his face dissolved into something much softer and lighthearted as his dimples appeared.
“I’m not eleven anymore.” I laughed. “You can’t scare me like that.”
“Hey, if my memory’s right,youwere the one who tried this stunt onmethat one time with the café’s security system.”
“I was a lovely child. I don’t remember doing anything like that.”
“Hmm. Your smirk says otherwise.”
Jake punched a string of numbers into the door keypad.He’s never going to guess correctly, I thought.What are the odds?But to my disbelief, the light on the door changed from red to green.
Grinning in satisfaction, Jake leaned back against the door and crossed his arms.
Begrudgingly impressed, I asked, “How did you know the code?”
“I watched a motel janitor do it once, back when my momworked here. It’s just the address of the motel. They never changed it.” Arms still crossed, he leaned farther against the door, pushing it open with his back. “Come on.”
Wondering what off-limits room Jake wanted to bring me to, I peered through the doorway, but was met only with the sight of a plain gray stairwell.
I glanced back at him to question where we were going, but before I could, I caught the way Jake’s eyes were glinting, and the way he tilted his head as he watched me, as if daring me to figure out the answer myself.
It only took a moment before I understood.
Jake wasn’t taking me to a room in the motel.
He was bringing me to thetopof it.
“Breaking onto a motel roof?” I questioned in approval as I started up the stairs. I stopped briefly, turning to look down at him, just a few steps below me. “I know I’ve dragged your whole bad boy brand, but I can actually get behind this part.”
“I’ll make sure to tell my publicist. She’ll be so happy.”
