I was walking down the hall, after an energetic game of volleyball down on the beach, when I heard sobbing coming from Hannah's room. The door was ajar, so I knocked and pushed the door slowly. I carefully walked in.
Hannah was lying face down in her bed, crying. I also noticed that she was only wearing a black bikini.
I walked over to her, and put my hands on her shoulders. I sat down next to her on the bed, and began to rub her back.
"Hey, hey," I said, "here we are in sunny Los Angeles, and your crying? What's the matter?"
She moved her head so she was looking at me, and told me:
"Its my boyfriend. He just broke up with me!" She paused for a moment, "he says that he can't handle me being famous! He says that he found someone else, someone quieter!" She again buried her head into her pillow, crying.
"Hey," I said, "Don't cry. If he thinks like that, he's a jerk anyway. You can do much better!"
Teary eyed, and still sobbing, she sat up, and looked at me very closely, sniffled then said, "You think?"
Now it would be good to note that I had had a hard on since entering Hannah's room, and had sat with my legs away from her, so she wouldn't see this.
"Yes," I continued, "you could have any man down on that beach!"
"What?" She said, clearing herself up a bit more, "do you really think that I'm that good looking?"
"Definitely!" I said, I was going to continue, but she ran her finger down my chest (I had not got a top on, as I had been playing volleyball in the hot sun)
"Do you think?" She said, "that I could have any man in this hotel room?"