Shiver / Private Sessions: Shiver / Private Sessions. Tori Carrington

      “Go do your thing,” Carrie said, abandoning all hope of getting through tonight with any dignity.

      “I’ll see you after?”

      She nodded.

      Sam hesitated, then took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Good.”

      Carrie watched him as he meandered through the crowd, commenting to the participants, especially the younger ones. It occurred to her that this was all her own damn fault, and if she hadn’t wanted the hotel populace to know she wanted to sleep with the owner, she should have drawn a spooky little ghost and kept her mouth shut.

      So she sat, resigned. “You can stop looking so delighted. I admit it. All of it.” Then Carrie turned to Erin’s neighbor. “And you can stop it, too.”

      The “Dude, Run” woman burst out laughing. “You have to admit. I didn’t have to work very hard.”

      “No, you didn’t.”

      “I’m Lulu,” she said. “I’m here with my old man, who is busy watching some sports thing in the bar. He doesn’t believe in any of this stuff, and he wasn’t supposed to come, but since the bar has more ESPN than we have at home, he insisted. I gather you two are friends?”

      Carrie nodded. “Nice to meet you, Lulu. I’m Carrie, that’s Erin. I’m not sure about us being friends, though.”

      Lulu shook her head. “I can see that’s not true. Sorry for sticking it to you over by the coffee, but man, that pumpkin. Did you think you’d get away with it?”

      “I guess not.”

      “Personally, I don’t blame you a bit. He’s a cutie.”

      A shiver went through Carrie, not big enough that anyone would notice, but she felt it move straight down her back until it made her cross her legs. This was becoming very real. Very close. Thank god she’d shaved her legs.

      As she sipped her now-cooled coffee she tried to do a quick run-through of the coming night, despite having no idea of the actual logistics. His place? Where was his place? Her room? No one too close there, but he’d have to make the call. She supposed she could insist that it be her room. At this point, she doubted the game would be called on account of venue.

      She’d brought condoms because she always brought condoms on the off chance. But it had been a while since Armand, and she was feeling surprisingly gun-shy. Normally, she had no qualms about her sexuality, but with Sam, she wanted him to like it. Her. A lot.

      “Carrie.”

      She blinked at Erin. “What?”

      “You’re not in the bedroom yet, so please pay attention to the person sitting across from you.”

      “Sorry. Zoned.”

      “I guessed. Your squeeze is asking for pumpkins to be brought onstage.”

      “I told you, I’m not entering.”

      “You have to.” This, from Lulu. “It’s adorable and everyone’ll get a real kick out of it. It’s not as if the whole room doesn’t know.”

      “Have I thanked you guys for that yet? No?” She leaned forward. “There’s a reason.”

      “Honey,” Lulu said, as if she’d known them for years. “Half the people here were talking about you the minute you checked in. Some said you didn’t believe in ghosts. Personally, that’s fine with me. You can believe in whatever the hell you want. Others said you and Sam got into a little staring contest in line. Sherry said it was like you two were having sex right there in the middle of the lobby.”

      “Oh, my god.” Carrie put her head in her hands.

      “It’s kind of sweet,” Erin said. “No reason for you to be embarrassed. You’re both consenting adults and you’re not breaking any rules. They’re all just jealous. I know because I am, too. Do yourself a favor. Own it. If someone doesn’t like it, too bad.”

      Carrie lifted her head just enough to stare at Erin. “Own it? Who the hell are you talking to?”

      “The new you. The one who’s going to be brave and daring and fierce even when I’m in New York. The one who’s not going to lock herself in the loft and only come out when there’s no more milk.”

      Carrie’s stomach swooped again, this time unpleasantly with the reminder that soon her life was going to change so dramatically. “I shouldn’t be hooking up. I should be spending time with you.”

      Erin gave her a lopsided grin. “I love you, but not that much.”

      “You know what I mean.”

      “I do. But please, I beg of you, do this. He seems like a really nice guy. He’s not about to do something hinky. He’s the owner, he’s got staff, guests. If it’s terrible, so what? You both get a little itchy when you see each other and then you move on. It’s the perfect time and place to take a chance, trust me.”

      “And how do you know that?”

      Erin tapped her temple with her index finger. “Psychic.”