Beautiful Heist

18. You're So Nice When You're Sleeping

Eighteen

You're So Nice When You're Sleeping

I didn't wake up in the car. If I had, my neck would have most definitely been stiff and muscles bunched in my back. Instead, I was lying on my stomach, the side of my face pressed against a soft, clean-smelling pillow, with the feeling someone was close to me on my other side.

Slowly, I cracked open one eye to see the thick curtains covering the double doors leading out to the balcony of our hotel room. A light was on behind me, though, so it wasn't completely dark. When I looked at the clock across the room, the glowing red numbers told me it was later than I thought. Almost three in the afternoon, to be exact.

John's laptop was sitting on the desk. The screen was dimmed, but I could still see there was one new email notification. John must have already sent a picture of the piece to Paul and they figured it out.

I shifted slightly, turning over so I was lying on my back. I still had on my clothes from the night before, but my shoes and jacket were on top of my bags on the floor

When I looked over at the other side of the bed, I was kind of surprised to see John was lying there beside me, only a few inches away. He was facing me, so I could see just how peaceful he looked as he slept. That hardness had completely disappeared, replaced with the look of innocence. Well, innocent enough.

He only had his jeans on, riding low on his hips, his boxers peeking out just a little. He was a little less careful with his shirt, which was thrown haphazardly at the end of the bed by his bare feet. Maybe he was too tired to try and make it to his bag.

Okay, he might have caught me off guard...a little. Oh, okay...a lot. It wasn't that he was sleeping just about a foot away. It was that the one arm not resting underneath his head, stretched out in my direction, his fingers almost touching the skin of my arm.

That was...a little strange, to say the least.

I didn't have time to wonder. My phone, which had somehow found its way to the table beside the bed, started vibrating. I sighed, knowing it was going to be a long and possibly loud conversation once I saw the name flashed across the screen. So instead of answering it in the room, I quickly walked toward the balcony doors and went outside, looking back at the still sleeping John before I closed them.

The sun was bright, though it was covered by fluffy white clouds every few moments, and I had to shield my eyes for a moment so my eyes could adjust. The sounds from the street six stories below floated up – cars driving and horns honking, the sound of people talking and walking on the sidewalks. It was all just a jumble of noises, though. White noise, so it was easy to ignore.

"Hey, Elena," I greeted as I sat down on one of the chairs.

"So...?" Elena started, leaving the question hanging.

"So what?"

"So did my brother finally get off his high horse and decide you guys were breaking into that family's house yet? And, more importantly, did he finally stop being an ass and show you just how much he...?"

I cut her off before she could finish, blushing furiously, and changed the subject. "Did he not call you last night to tell you we were going?"

"So you've already gotten the piece?" she questioned.

"Yeah, and judging by the email he had this morning, your dad's already figured where the next one is located. Have you not spoken to him yet? I would have thought he told you. "