As a last ditch effort, Tom decided to text Daisy, his fingers dancing over the screen as he pulled up Daisy's contact, his trademark smirk curling with calculated intent. He typed out a quick message, his tone casual but deliberate: Yo, I'm bored out of my mind. Need someone to chat with. You up?
Daisy's reply pinged almost instantly, her words flashing across the screen: Bored? Thought you were with Julia. Her question carried a hint of curiosity, maybe a touch of suspicion, and Tom's smirk deepened, his dark eyes glinting as he sensed the opening.
He hesitated for a heartbeat, his fingers hovering over the keyboard, crafting a quick lie to keep the game rolling. Nah, not with her, he texted back, his voice in his head dripping with that cocky nonchalance. She hit it off with Gregor instead. They're probably in his room playing cards or something like that. The lie was smooth, effortless, and he leaned back, picturing Daisy's reaction, her sharp hazel eyes narrowing as she processed his words.
Her response came fast, tinged with a playful edge: Cards, huh? Alright, if you're that bored, swing by my room. 512. I'm up. Tom's grin turned predatory, his pulse quickening as he stood, stretching his lean frame.
He spotted the half-empty bottle of red wine on the table, its dark glass catching the dim light, and snatched it up, the weight of it grounding in his hand. "Game on," he muttered under his breath, his voice a low, smug murmur as he tugged on his jeans and black shirt, heading out the door with a swagger that screamed confidence.
The hallway of the Brion Hotel was hushed, the plush carpet swallowing his footsteps as he strode toward the elevator, the wine bottle dangling from his fingers like a trophy. The ride to the fifth floor was swift, the soft ding of the elevator doors a prelude to the play he was about to make.
Room 512 was at the end of the corridor, and when he rapped his knuckles against the door, it swung open to reveal Daisy, her red hair slightly damp with sweat, her body encased in a tight, black bodycon gown that hugged every curve like a second skin. Her cheeks were flushed, her hazel eyes wide and a little flustered, like she'd been caught mid-motion.
The sight of her, sweaty, disheveled, and undeniably hot, sent a jolt of heat through him, his rod twitching in his jeans as he took her in.
"I Just got back from dancing downstairs," Daisy said by way of explanation, her voice breathy but sharp, her hand brushing a strand of hair from her face as she stepped back to let him in. The gown shimmered as she moved, accentuating the sway of her hips, the fabric clinging to her breasts and thighs in a way that made his mouth go dry. "I was just about to hop in the shower and freshen up."
Tom's eyes raked over her, lingering on the way the gown outlined her curves, the faint sheen of sweat making her skin glow under the room's soft lighting. "Don't bother with the shower," he said, his voice low and teasing, thick with a hunger he didn't try to mask. "You look hot as hell like this, Daisy."
He held up the wine bottle, his grin playful but edged with something darker, his words landing like a challenge as he stepped closer, closing the door behind him.
Daisy's brow arched, a flicker of confusion crossing her face, her lips parting as if to question him. "Perfect? I'm a sweaty disaster," she said, her tone half-laughing, half-skeptical, her hazel eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him. But she didn't push back, instead gesturing to the plush burgundy couch in the corner of her room, its cushions inviting under the warm glow of a nearby lamp. "Alright, whatever. Let's sit, then."
They settled on the couch, the wine bottle between them, two mismatched hotel glasses on the table. Tom poured the deep red liquid, the glug-glug of the wine a soft counterpoint to the quiet hum of the room. Daisy took a sip, her lips wrapping around the glass's rim, her throat moving as she swallowed, and Tom watched, his smirk softening as he noted her relaxing into the moment.
They talked, their conversation starting light, her poking fun at the cheesy club music downstairs, him riffing on the overpriced hotel bar. Her laughter came easier with each sip, her shoulders loosening, her body shifting closer on the couch, the gown riding up slightly to reveal more of her thighs.
As the wine flowed, Tom felt her growing more comfortable, her sharp wit softening into playful banter, her hazel eyes catching his with a warmth that hadn't been there before. He leaned back, his arm draped casually over the couch, his tone turning offhanded, almost too casual.
"You know, I think Julia might've gotten with Gregor just to spite me," he said, his voice low, a hint of a drawl as he swirled the wine in his glass, his eyes flicking to hers to gauge her reaction.
Daisy's brow shot up, her glass pausing halfway to her lips, her voice tinged with surprise. "Spite you? Why the hell would she do that?" she asked, leaning forward, the gown stretching across her chest, her curiosity piqued as she set her glass down, her fingers brushing the table.
Tom's expression shifted, his smirk fading into a fake, apologetic frown, his voice taking on a practiced tone of regret. "Yeah, see, I kinda fucked up," he said, his eyes dropping to his glass, playing the part of a guy who'd misstepped. "I told Julia that I enjoyed our chat on the plane, that she's a sweet person and all, but… I might've let slip that I liked you more." He paused, letting the words hang, his gaze lifting to meet hers, watching the shock flicker across her face, her lips parting slightly.
Daisy's eyes widened, her breath catching as a flush crept up her neck, a warmth spreading through her chest that she couldn't hide. "You said what?" she asked, her voice a mix of disbelief and something softer, her fingers tightening around her glass as she leaned closer.
Tom shrugged, he kept his tone soft, almost contrite. "Yeah, I know, dumb move," he said, running a hand through his purple hair, his fingers lingering as if to emphasize his point. "I didn't regret saying it, though, cause it's true. I do like you more, Daisy. You've got this… vibe, you know? I can't really explain it."
He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur. "What I regret is how I said it to her. It came out careless, and probably hurt her feelings, and that's on me. I didn't mean to be a dick."