The Masked Singer

[Chapter Forty Seven]

Chapter Forty Seven

Raising my fist, I knock on Alex's hotel door. I hope he's still inside of his room and I desperately hoping he's not mad with me for leaving the restaurant promotion gig out. The sound of movement on the other side of the door makes me hopeful, yet nervous.

The door swings open and a tired Alex emerges. He stretches his arms above his head, which pulls his shirt up, revealing some of his abdominal muscles. He then crosses his arms over his chest and leans up against the side of the white metal door frame.

"Hi." I smile.

"Oh, so now you want to talk to me," he replies in a sarcastic tone.

"Yes?" I raise an eyebrow up, confused at what his problem is. Alex doesn't utter another word, he just turns his nose up and takes a couple of steps backwards. I watch as Alex moves deeper into his hotel room.

Walking inside, I shut the door behind me and follow Alex into the television room. He plops down on the couch and I stand on the opposite of the chair, looking down at him.

"It's not like that," I whisper.

"It certainly seemed like that last night," he snaps.

"What's your problem? I was tired and decided to go home," I explain.

"Not too tired to have Nathan over," he grumbles, pouting like a little child.

"Wha-" Before I can even begin my sentence, I'm cut off by Alex's angry babble of words.

"Don't deny it, I saw him leaving your room last night," he says.

"Big deal, so I had Nathan over for a chat." I shrug my shoulders.

"Tired my butt!" he continues to grumble on like a child. His pouty lips and frowning face makes me burst out laughing.

"Are you jealous?" His pouting face quickly drops to a blank expression. But as I stare him down, I see a light shade of red appear on his face as he begins to blush.

"No," he says under his breath.

"I don't like Nathan like that," I explain.

"How would I know? You could be best friends with each other outside of this mask," he trails off.

"Seriously, listen to yourself Alex! I just wanted someone to talk to, okay?" I ask as I throw my hands up in the air — adding in that extra dramatic effect.

"Why can't you talk to me?" He starts getting defensive.

Nodding my head, I say, "I know I can. I just wanted an outside opinion."

Alex gets up from his spot and slowly shuffles across the room to stand in front of me. He has his pouty face back on — only this time, it's not sad eyes or angry eyebrows. This time, lingering in the depths of his warm blue eyes are happiness and admiration. His eyes make my heart swell and beat erratically.

"Do you need an Alex opinion?" Alex wraps his arms around my waist and pulls my body against him. Resting my head against his chest, I cuddle closer to his body.

"How about that opinion?" he reminds me.

I shake my head, but my movement just ends up with me sliding my head across his chest and messing my hair up.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" Alex asks again.  I shake my head again, messing my hair up even more.

"Tell me," he begs. I feel his hands move from the middle of my back and onto the sides of my hips. For every second I don't begin explaining what's wrong, his fingers start creeping up my waist. The feeling of Alex's fingers delicately tracing over my skin already draws a ticklish sensation.