145

145
Dr Knight

I stood there checking my key card against the room number on the door, completely confused. It was definitely the right room—507, just as the receptionist had said! So what in the world was going on inside my hotel room then? I pressed my ear against the door and heard unmistakable moans and grunts that clearly indicated there were two people having intimate relations rather enthusiastically in there.

"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered in disbelief. "After everything today, now this?"

I turned my body reluctantly, intending to go back downstairs to the front desk and request a different room. I assumed there must have been some kind of booking error in their system. But just as I was about to walk away, the door suddenly cracked open and two female housekeepers emerged, adjusting their uniforms hastily and looking very flushed.

I raised my eyebrows in shock, momentarily speechless before finding my voice. "You two used my room for... that? That's completely—"

"Unprofessional? Inappropriate? Against hotel policy?" one of the women supplied nervously.

"We're so sorry, sir," the other one whispered, looking mortified. "Please don't report us. We'll lose our jobs."

And then I heard a familiar voice from behind me—the same girl from the lobby incident earlier. "That's absolutely disgusting! Both of you should be ashamed! You can't just use guests' rooms for your personal activities. You should stop this immediately!"

I turned to see her standing there with hands on her hips, looking indignant on my behalf, which was surprising considering our earlier encounter.

I gazed at her with confusion, then shrugged casually. "It's okay, really. These things happen." I was too exhausted from my day of revelations and confrontations to make a big deal about it.

"No, it's not okay," she insisted firmly.

I didn't particularly want to impress the housekeepers or make a scene, though a petty part of me did think they should thoroughly clean the room over and over again after what they'd been doing in there.

"We'll just forget it happened," I said wearily. "I just need to sleep."

She crossed her arms over her chest as if she was the manager or even the owner of this hotel and commanded them in an authoritative tone that surprised me. "You both should clean his room right now—properly sanitize everything—or I will personally file a formal complaint with hotel management. I know the regional director, and he takes these matters very seriously."

"Yes, ma'am, right away," they stammered, rushing back inside with cleaning supplies.

"Hey, you! Stop that right now," I snapped at her, annoyed by her interference. "This doesn't concern you at all. I can handle my own problems."

"You were about to let them off without even cleaning your room," she pointed out. "Do you really want to sleep in those sheets?"

She suddenly grabbed my hand and pulled me away from my room before I could protest further. "Come with me now. You can wait in my room while they fix yours." She led me to her door, which was right next to mine, and unlocked it quickly.

"Hey, why did you do this?" I asked once we were inside her room, thoroughly confused by her actions. I didn't think she liked me at all based on our earlier interaction in the lobby. Her reaction seemed like a complete overreaction to the situation! "I thought you couldn't stand me after how I behaved downstairs."

"I still think you were rude," she confirmed, "but nobody deserves to walk in on that or sleep in a contaminated room."

"I appreciate the concern, but I could have handled it," I insisted.

"Do you know why I reacted so strongly?" she asked suddenly.

"No idea," I replied honestly.

She looked slightly embarrassed. "I don't like seeing people take advantage of their positions like that. Those housekeepers were using a room you paid for." She hesitated before adding, "Also, I don't particularly like seeing public displays of affection between anyone—straight, gay, lesbian, whatever. It makes me uncomfortable."

I gulped, surprised by her candidness. "Actually, I don't mind love or sex by any means or between any consenting adults. What people do is their business."

"Really? You seem very traditional," she observed.

"Appearances can be deceiving," I replied.

She giggled lightly, her serious expression melting away. "I was mostly joking about the PDA thing. I just don't think hotel staff should be using guest rooms for their personal activities. It's unprofessional."

"Fair enough," I agreed.

"What's your name, by the way?" she asked suddenly, seeming much more talkative and friendly than she had appeared downstairs. "I'm Lily."

"Dr. Angelo Knight," I answered automatically, then wondered why I'd given my full title.

I walked toward the door, suddenly feeling uncomfortable being alone in a room with someone who appeared so young. "Sorry, I have a terrible headache and I came here specifically to relax and get away from complicated situations. Besides, you're so young—probably not even old enough to check into this hotel by yourself."

"I'm not that young," she protested.

She really did look about eighteen or maybe twenty at most, especially with her casual ponytail and oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants. She looked like a college athlete or perhaps just someone who preferred comfort over style. Very different from the elegant, sophisticated women I typically found attractive.

"You look like you should be in college, not staying alone in luxury hotels," I commented.

She waved dismissively at me as I reached for the door handle. "Whatever, asshole. Goodbye. Go enjoy your freshly contaminated room."

I blinked, shocked by her sudden shift in tone, but before I could say anything in response, she was right in front of me, practically pushing me out. "Nice meeting you, Dr. Judgmental," she added before slamming the door shut right in my face.

"Well, that was weird," I muttered to myself, standing in the hallway.

I frowned, genuinely confused by the entire interaction, and walked back to my room where the housekeepers were still frantically cleaning. "Excuse me, you both may leave now. I think it's clean enough." I just wanted to be alone.

"We're so sorry, sir," one of them said again.

"We changed all the linens and sanitized everything," the other added nervously.

"It's fine. Just please don't do it again," I said firmly. "At least not in my room."

After they left, I made sure to hang the 'Do Not Disturb' sign prominently on the doorknob. The last thing I needed was more unexpected visitors or surprises.

I jumped onto the bed exhaustedly and rolled my body to the right side, quickly falling into a deep sleep. Finally, no more stress. No more manipulative women. No more fake children or elaborate lies. I had no obligations anymore. Just me and the peaceful silence of an anonymous hotel room.

"Freedom at last," I whispered as I drifted off to sleep.

After what felt like only a couple of hours, I was jolted awake by loud screaming coming from the hallway. I jumped off the bed disoriented, my heart racing. I couldn't process what was happening at first, convinced I must be dreaming the whole thing. I rubbed my eyes vigorously and stumbled toward the door as the screams continued to echo through my room.

"What now?" I groaned. "Can't I have one night of peace?"

"This is completely unacceptable!" a female voice shouted. "I specifically requested juice!"

I huffed in frustration and yanked open my door to see what all the commotion was about. There in the hallway stood the same young woman from earlier—Lily—and she was yelling angrily at a poor room service waiter who looked completely bewildered.

"You! I asked you specifically to bring me fresh orange juice, and you insist on serving me wine or champagne? Do I look like I want alcohol? I said JUICE!"

The waiter was stammering apologies. "I'm so sorry, ma'am, there must have been a mix-up with the orders—"

I couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. "Are you serious? Is this really worth screaming about at—" I checked my watch, "—one in the morning? This kind of mix-up happens all the time in hotels. I'm sure he can go get you juice if it's that important."

Her face flushed bright red with anger, and she furrowed her brows dramatically when she spotted me. "You! Don't interfere in my business again. This is between me and the hotel staff."

"The entire floor can hear your 'business,'" I pointed out. "Some of us are trying to sleep."

"Then go back to sleep and mind your own business," she snapped.

I shrugged, too tired to argue further. "As you like. Maybe he just got confused because you look like a teenage boy from behind with those baggy sports clothes. Anyway, please don't scream anymore. Some of us actually need to sleep tonight."

"How dare you!" she gasped. "You're the most insufferable man I've ever met!"

She raised her eyebrow indignantly and then stepped back inside her room, slamming the door shut in my face for the second time that night.

I turned to the flustered waiter and grabbed both the wine bottle and champagne from his cart. "Thank you, I'll take these off your hands. You can put them on my bill. And I'm sorry about her behavior—I think she's having a rough night or something."

"It's no problem, sir," he replied politely, clearly relieved to have someone reasonable to deal with. "Would you like me to bring her the juice she requested?"

"If you don't mind," I said. "Maybe it will keep her quiet for the rest of the night."

"Right away, sir," he nodded and hurried away.

"Thank you," I called after him before going back into my room.

I decided I might as well make the most of my interrupted sleep. I'd drink some of this unexpectedly acquired wine, take a relaxing shower, and maybe head down to the hotel bar or nightclub afterward to unwind properly. The night was still young, and maybe some social interaction would help clear my head after everything that had happened today.

"At least the alcohol is decent quality," I noted, examining the label on the champagne bottle.

My shower turned out to be the shortest one I'd ever taken in my life. I had barely stepped under the hot water and removed my clothes when I heard more screaming from the hallway, but this time there was frantic knocking on my door accompanied by a panicked voice that was becoming all too familiar. "Please help me! Please, anyone! Help!"

"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered, quickly shutting off the water.

I rushed out of the bathroom completely naked, not even stopping to grab a towel, assuming there must be some kind of emergency based on the desperate tone in her voice. I yanked open the door to see what catastrophe could possibly be happening now.

There stood Lily, almost completely naked herself with only a small towel hastily wrapped around her body. Water was still dripping from her hair and body onto the hallway carpet, and shampoo suds were running down her face, nearly getting into her eyes.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt? Is there a fire?" I asked urgently, genuinely concerned despite my annoyance.

Her eyes slowly traveled downward and widened dramatically when she realized I was completely naked. "Oh my god! Why are you naked?" she shrieked, covering her eyes with one hand while trying to maintain her grip on her towel with the other.

"You were screaming like you were being murdered! I was in the shower!" I exclaimed. "What did you expect?"

She tried to turn her body away quickly in embarrassment, but in her haste, she lost her footing on the wet carpet and fell forward directly on top of me. I stumbled backward from the impact, and we both crashed to the floor of my room, with her landing on my chest.

"Damn it! Who the hell are you, and why do you keep disrupting my night?" I groaned, the back of my head narrowly missing hitting the hard floor.

She bit her lip, looking mortified, and mumbled, "There was a cockroach in my shower. A really big one. It startled me."

"Excuse me?" I blinked, completely shocked. "You screamed bloody murder, ran into the hallway half-naked, and pounded on my door because you saw a bug in your bathroom? Are you serious right now?"

"It was really big," she insisted. "And it flew at me!"

She quickly crawled backward off me and readjusted her towel around her body, looking away from my nakedness with obvious embarrassment. "I'm sorry, sir. I panicked. I have a severe phobia of cockroaches."

"A phobia," I repeated flatly. "Of cockroaches."

She nodded miserably, still not meeting my eyes.

I sighed and stood up, grabbing my underwear from the bathroom and putting it on immediately to make the situation less awkward. "Hey, wait here a minute. I'll come help you get rid of it."

"You will?" she asked, sounding surprised and relieved. "You don't have to. I can probably deal with it myself now that I've calmed down a bit."

She still looked genuinely terrified though, and despite my annoyance, I couldn't bring myself to send her back alone if she was truly that frightened.

I patted her head gently as I walked past her toward the door, "It's okay. Everyone has their fears. You're young—you'll grow out of it eventually."

Suddenly she punched my back with surprising force, which made me glance over my shoulder in shock. "Hey! What's wrong with you now? I'm trying to help you!"

"I'm NOT a young girl!" she insisted furiously. "I'm NOT underage or a child you need to patronize. Now move your ass out of my room. I don't want your help anymore, you condescending jerk." Each word was emphasized with increasing volume and intensity.

I stared at her in disbelief, wondering if she was mentally unstable. One minute she was begging for my help, the next she was punching me and yelling again.

"Fine, handle your own cockroach then," I snapped, frustrated beyond reason. "I am sure that someone who looks like you probably doesn't even have the curves of a woman anyway. You're built like a teenage boy."

Before I could stop myself, I impulsively grabbed the edge of her towel and pulled it away, leaving her completely exposed. It was a terrible, inappropriate action that I regretted immediately.

"Oh my god!" I gasped, unable to breathe properly for a moment as I stared at her naked form. She was absolutely stunning—the baggy clothes had been hiding a perfectly proportioned woman's body.

And her breasts were—were those D cups? Perfect, full D cups on her otherwise slender frame? The contrast between her appearance in those baggy clothes and the reality beneath them was shocking.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" she screamed, scrambling to grab the towel back. "You pervert! Get out!"

"I'm so sorry," I stammered, backing away. "That was completely inappropriate. I don't know what came over me."

"Get out NOW!" she demanded, her face bright red with anger and embarrassment.

I had made a terrible mistake, crossing a line I never should have approached. What was happening to me? This wasn't who I wanted to be anymore.