The bright red sun started to settle down on the horizon as the soft, lounge music flowed out of the room onto the balcony. The sounds of the city of Boston echoed in the distance as the man standing on the balcony took a sip from his glass. He let his elbows rest against the railing, his sight focused on the distant skyline. He breathed slowly, closing his eyes at the feeling of the light breeze hitting his face.
I needed that. He thought, the feeling of being squeezed in slowly fading away with every slow inhale and exhale.
"Mr. Evans, is everything alright?"
The inquiring tone of the voice behind him caused Chris to first tense up, exhale and then to slowly turn around, already curving his lips into a hopefully convincing smile.
"It's nothing, I'm fine. Just needed to take a little breather, it was getting hot in there." He spoke as he loosened his tie a little, unbuttoning the suit jacket afterward.
"Understandable," the other man replied, "I'll leave you to it, then. You can come back inside anytime."
"Thank you," Chris replied as the other man turned around, heading back inside the crowded room. Chris took another sip, looking at the pairs and groups of people socializing inside. The view did leave him with mixed feelings - whilst he appreciated the fact that he was able to attend events like this one without having to sacrifice much from his schedule, the sight of pairs of people interacting did leave him with a sense of loneliness. He sighed, the flashes of his past failed hookups, breakups and overall interpersonal misery filling his mind. Finishing the glass then setting it on the balcony, he discarded those images and refocused on his current situation. she started to walk back towards the room, he felt his phone buzz in his jacket pocket. In one swift motion, he fished it out and unlocked it, tapping the screen to open the new message.
"Huh?" He heard himself exclaim aloud, noting the particulars of the text. The message itself was simple - just a "Hi". It was the name of the sender however that caught his attention.
Hayley.
His heart jumped and he blinked a few times, confirming that he indeed was seeing things correctly. It was Hayley Atwell who had sent him the message. The memories came flooding back from the first time they met just before filming "The First Avenger" until the last time they spoke nearly 3 months ago. He would be lying to himself if he said he didn't develop a crush on her during that entire time. She made it easy on him if he were to be honest - her sense of humor, sharp wit, intelligence and professionalism mixing perfectly with the fact she looked like a 1940's sex symbol. They both quickly became friends on and off the set, but recently they drifted apart, mostly due to her being busy in London and him in the US. After that, he resigned himself to thinking of it as a lost opportunity - and that one seemed to somehow sting more than most of the failed relationships he had previously.
Right now, though, he could already feel the hidden emotions coming back as he typed back.
Hello
He wrote and sent, before adding.
What's going on?
He waited, looking at the screen when another message popped up.
Nothing bad, trust me. In Boston?
Yes. Bored. He replied, scratching his head as he thought of the reasons she wrote to him. While it was completely out of the blue, he did feel a little happy she hadn't forgotten about him after all.
Poor thing. She then replied, causing his lips to curve up into a smile.
Not so bad, but it could be better. He replied, moving back inside the room and heading towards the bar. Before he reached it, another message flashed.
Really? I have an idea then. The message said as Chris furrowed his brow. Before he could reply, he then saw she sent him a photo.
He gulped as he saw it, a little tingle shooting in his groin. The photo was of her, although it didn't show her face - instead, he spotted a cup of a lacy bra peeking out of a cardigan. Still not quite believing what he just saw, he simply typed "?" and sent it. Seconds passed as he let his back rest against the wall, keeping the phone closer to himself as he waited for the response.
Soon, it came through.
I'm feeling very lonely, Chris. I fancy your company...
OK. He replied, feeling his hands jitter. He took a breath as he sent another text.
Where? He started to move then, already feeling his cock harden at the images his imagination was conjuring up. His phone pinged, another message coming through.
Intercontinental, Junior Suite. I'll keep the door open.
The message said before another came in, only containing the eggplant emoji. Chris smiled as he moved to the exit, already haling his driver (one of the perks of being a high-profile movie star).
"Where to, sir?" He asked as Chris entered the car.
"Intercontinental Hotel."
The ride to the hotel was smooth. Chris tipped the driver, ordering him to go back home for the rest of the evening as he exited the car and swiftly moved into the hotel.
