Shameless Flirt by Lauren Blakely

Author:Lauren Blakely [Blakely, Lauren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Top Notch Boyfriend Books

4

Boner at First Sight

TJ

* * *

First, I’ll brush my teeth.

That’s my plan as I enter the hotel. Next, I’ll stand under a hot shower for a decadently long time and wash the flight off me.

Only, I won’t be doing either of those things in the immediate future.

“Your room isn’t ready yet, sir.” The front desk attendant informs me when I try to check in.

I groan. Maybe I could just flop into an exhausted heap on the floor. But um, hello, terrible caricature of a traveler.

Instead, I paste on a smile. “When do you think it’ll be available?”

The gray-haired man behind the desk checks his watch then smiles. “At three o’clock on the dot.”

That’s an hour and a half from now.

Don’t mope.

Don’t groan.

“Cool,” I say. “Any place I can shower?”

“No, but you can freshen up in the loo.”

He says it like such a solution might never have occurred to me. As it happens, I’m familiar with indoor plumbing and appreciative of its utility vis-à-vis freshening up.

I can wash my face and slay my dragon breath with a toothbrush, but I can’t shower. At least, not until three o’clock on the dot. And even then, I don’t have a change of clothes. I can’t cruise the streets of London in the same jeans and T-shirt I’ve worn for too many hours and on two continents.

So, I turn to the clerk with this next order of business. “Also, the airline sent my luggage on a detour, so it’s going to arrive here tomorrow. Do you know where I could shop for a new shirt and some boxer briefs?”

Trouble is, the guy is sixty, at least, and I think I saw a suit like that on a BBC show from the seventies. Small chance he’ll know what a twenty-something queer dude would wear on a night out in London.

“Like, a cool shop. Where the millennials go,” I add, hoping that makes it clear I mean “Not a grandpa store.”

He thinks for a moment then says, helpfully, “There’s a TK Maxx around the corner.”

It’s a place to start, I guess. Maybe I’ll give it a shot then hit up Google if I have no luck.

After I brush my teeth and splash water on my face in the men’s room—I refuse to call it a loo—I leave my carry-on with the bellhop and set out for the store.

When I walk through Manhattan, I usually listen to music. But I know all the corners and alleys of New York. I want to take in London with all my senses—see it and hear it. So, after a quick look at a map, I stuff my phone in my front pocket.

I head across the street, listening to the sounds of my new home—the rumble of buses, the honk of horns, the rustle of Londoners coming and going right along with me. I’m part of the city’s current, the American in jeans and a No Name band T-shirt—literally, that’s the band’s name.

The route to the store takes me through Piccadilly Circus.

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