Groggy Goddess

Hours later, Jennifer woke to the ringing of the phone. A computerized voice told her it was her wake-up call. Moaning, she rolled to the edge of the bed. Most of the headache was gone, but she still felt out of sorts. She slowly made her way to the bathroom, and ran the shower. Stripping out of her traveling clothes, she stepped under the hot spray, letting the needles of water wash away some of the fatigue she felt. She washed her hair, and the light smell of peaches made her smile. It also made her hungry. This was a good sign. Usually, she wasn’t hungry until the day after landing.

Finishing in the shower, she wrapped a towel around her head and cocooned herself in the hotel’s fluffy robe. She sat at the vanity in the bathroom after brushing her teeth, and looked at her reflection. She didn’t look too bad. The dark circles under her eyes had faded somewhat, and she didn’t look quite so pathetic. There was a bit of color in her cheeks, and she smiled, thinking about Richie.

He was much more down-to-earth than she expected, and she was immediately at ease with him. She’d felt like she’d known him – really known him, not just cyber-stalked him – for years. Still, now she was clear-headed for the most part, and remembered some of the things she’d said to him, and blushed. She couldn’t believe she’d been totally and completely herself with him, and he didn’t seem to mind. Not many men liked her when she was being her. They wanted her to be the mindless, air-headed bimbo that her looks always made them assume she was.

She laughed at herself, and went to get dressed. After changing into soft jeans and one of her favorite t-shirts (this one said, “All this and brains too”), she stepped out onto the balcony, still not comfortable to venture farther than the edge of the doorway. She could hear soft guitar music coming from down the way a little and damn but she’d know that sound anywhere. “Rich?” she said softly. "Is that you?"

“Hey Jennifer, darlin’,” Richie answered. The privacy walls between the balconies meant she couldn’t see him, but she could hear the smile in his voice. “How’re you feeling?”

“Much better,” she said. “The nap and hot shower did wonders. I’m thinking of having room service send up something to eat. Care to join me?” She held her breath, and nibbled on her lower lip, waiting for his answer.

“Absolutely,” he said. “Gimme two minutes.”

“Take whatever time you need,” she said, and went back into her room. She combed out her hair, and was just finishing the end of her long French plait when there was a knock on the door. She let Richie in, and flicked the end of her hair behind her back.

“You look much better,” Richie commented as he came into the room. He kissed her cheek, and handed her her hat.

“I feel worlds better, and am glad that I’m actually hungry.” She gave the hat a flick, sailing it halfway across the living room to land square in the middle of the coffee table. “What do you want?”

“I’d love a turkey club,” he said. “And a Pepsi or something to drink. You don’t have to feed me, though; you can have them charge my room.”

Jennifer looked at Richie with a condescending stare. “I may not be in your league money-wise, but I do quite alright for myself, thank you very much.” She winked. “I do believe a lunch of turkey club and soda is not going to deplete my savings account.”

They chatted while they waited for the room service cart to arrive. Jennifer told him a little about her brother and the guys she was going to Laconia with. She’d been planning this outing for months, and was so excited that her brother was finally letting her go with them. These were guys she’d known for years, and they all considered her a little sister they had to take care of. It made her laugh because not only was she older than all of them, she was physically bigger than most. Richie laughed and had lots of questions. He wanted to know where they were staying, how they decided where to go and what to do, and wanted to know if she had a picture of her with her bike. While Jennifer booted her laptop, Richie told her that Jon had always wanted to go, but he wasn’t really able to. Jennifer nodded.

“I can imagine that would be difficult, but honestly, from what I understand, as long as you’re not an asshole, nobody on the ride pays too much attention to you. I guess the places we stop, that would be a different story.” She scrolled through her pictures until she found one of her with the bike. She had a shit-eating grin on her face, and a tight cammo tank top over jeans and leather chaps. She had one hand on the handlebars, the other on her cocked hip, an olive-drab brain-bucket dangling from her fingertips by the chin strap. Jennifer turned the computer and Richie laughed.

“Look at you! What a great picture. You’ve gotta send that one to me.” His eyes were devouring her image. “What else ya got here?” He started scrolling through the photos, skipping ones that didn’t have her in them. Jennifer was surprised, but Richie just laughed. “Quid pro quo, baby,” he said smiling. “I know you have seen countless pictures of me, and hell, you've probably passed them around to your friends. It’s only fair.”

Jennifer was saved from having to answer by the arrival of room service. She let the waiter in, and he brought the cart over to the table. He took the cover off, and Jennifer grinned widely. She had ordered soup and crackers, and the waiter brought her up what could only be Campbell’s chicken noodle, and a box of Pepperidge Farm Parmesan goldfish crackers. “What? How?” she stammered, then looked to Richie, who was grinning like a madman. “You did this?”

Richie nodded. “Why do you think I wanted to know what your favorite comfort foods were?” One of their many getting-to-know-you conversations was around mood foods, and what they each liked to eat when they were in some mood or another. He had filed all the information away in his head, and when Jen told him she was flying to England, he knew what he wanted to do. He had his mom send the soup and crackers to meet him in Ireland so he could pack them for this trip. When she had mentioned earlier that she’d want soup when she was hungry, he’d smiled. While Jennifer was sleeping, he brought the soup and crackers down to the front desk. Jennifer tipped the waiter handsomely, and showed him out. She came back, and wrapped Richie in a hug. His arms instinctively closed around her.

“You are just wonderful,” she said, and kissed is cheek.

When she tried to step back, Richie’s arms tightened around her, not ready to let her go yet. She looked into his eyes, and was surprised at what she saw there. There was a gleam of raw attraction she was not expecting. Slowly, he closed the gap between their faces, until his lips just barely brushed hers and backed away just a fraction. Jennifer’s heart was pounding, and without thinking she licked her lips.

Richie felt Jennifer’s breathing hitch, and he kissed her again, a little more firmly this time. He traced the seam of her lips lightly with his tongue, and they slowly opened to accept him. He stroked her tongue gently with his, gratified that she returned the caress, and after a long minute, he smiled, gently breaking the kiss. He pressed another tender kiss on her lips, and looked into her eyes. “Your soup is getting cold,” he said, grinning.

In a daze, Jennifer sat down and started to eat. Richie chuckled to himself, and did the same. This meeting was going so much better than he thought it would. He knew she was attracted to him – but he felt in his gut that she was attracted to HIM, not to the stage guy. That warmed his heart much the same way he imagined the soup was now warming Jennifer.

They spent the hours between tea and supper talking and watching TV, and when Jennifer would drift off, Richie would gently shake her, so she could keep to local time. They had dinner in her room, and at 9:00 local time, she was ready for bed.

She went into the bathroom to brush her teeth and change into her sleepwear. She looked at herself in the mirror, smiling at the memory of the kisses at lunchtime. She scooped up the ‘berry and fired of another message to Samantha. She was actually surprised Sam hadn’t called her yet. “He totally kissed me,” was all she sent.

When she came out all scrubbed and fresh, Richie gaped at her and cursed his sense of nobility. Richie very much wanted to stay with her; not to fuck her, though that wouldn’t be a bad thing, but to just stay. He could tell that she needed to completely relax, and his presence kept her off balance just enough to make his ego happy. He wanted her to be rested so she could enjoy her trip, so he knew he had to go.

She was wearing powder blue silky shorts and camisole, with a matching robe tied over it. Jennifer blushed at Richie’s open perusal, and was now glad she’d packed this instead of the ratty flannels she usually wore when she traveled. Richie approached her slowly, unable to tear his eyes away. He took her in his arms, and kissed her tenderly.

“Goodnight, Jennifer, darlin’,” he said softly, helping her settle in to her bed, and pulling the covers up to her neck. He smoothed her hair back and smiled at her.

“G’night, Rich,” she said, and covered his hand with hers. Bringing it to her face, she kissed his palm, closing her eyes a little at the smell of him.

“I’ll see you in the morning for breakfast,” Richie said.

Jennifer smiled. “Not if I see you first,” she quipped.

He smiled back at her and left the room. As Jennifer heard the door to her suite open then close, she sighed. She’ll be seeing him long before morning, she mused.

In her dreams.