Page 86 of Sins of a King

I was being tugged into unconsciousness. Flynn kissed my forehead and then was gone.

Chapter 25

“This has to stop happening,” I muttered, throwing an arm over my eyes.

“What?”

“Me waking up in your bed feeling crappy.” I heard Flynn’s rumble of laughter beside me. Removing my arm, I squinted at him, wondering how he looked perfect after a night of drinking scotch—I felt like I’d swallowed rocks, moss, and tree bark.

“You’re about half Malcolm’s size, Barrett. What did you think would happen?”

“At least I didn’t throw up,” I said. “Right?”

He sighed.

“Shit. I threw up? I don’t even remember it.”

“It’s better that you don’t. Here,” he said, reaching for the glass of water on the bedside table. He handed it to me and I drank greedily.

“Thanks,” I said, setting it aside and then leaning back against the pillows. “So, what did you and Malcolm talk about after I left?”

Flynn rubbed his stubbly jaw. “You.”

“Me?”

He nodded. “We also talked about business—opening another hotel in London.”

“There’s not a Rex Hotel in London?” I asked in surprise.

“Not yet.”

“Huh.”

“Would you go?”

“Go?” I threw my legs over the side of the bed and skimmed my tongue along my teeth. I was in desperate need of a toothbrush. And Advil.

“To London. With me?”

I’d made it to the doorway of the bathroom. I turned slowly, gripping the wall to steady myself, not knowing if it was my hangover or his question that had me wobbly.

“Say again?” I asked.

“Would you come to London with me while I opened the new hotel?”

“When? When would this happen?” I asked.

“Next spring.”

“But my job—I was thinking of going back to work next semester.”

He stared at me. “There are a few prestigious English universities that I’m sure would be glad to have you and your skills.”

I thought of Oxford and Cambridge. I was American; it would be difficult to get a job right away at one of those universities. But then I thought of what Flynn had done for me, ensuring that my job at Columbia was waiting for me if I wanted to go back. Would it be wrong to ask him to pull some strings again? To live and work in London, a place steeped in history!

And I’d be with Flynn.

I knew my answer.