And now, she’s covered up, and the creep sitting across from me is returning the death glare I gave him earlier because I’ve taken away his eye candy. Heat steams up my neck, sitting uncomfortably at the nape as she begins to scroll on her phone.
I twist my body awkwardly in the chair so that I can watch her. Crimson flushes across the exposed skin of her neck, so I know she knows I’m watching her.
“What?” she snaps, continuing to scroll through Instagram.
I’m sorry.
You’re beautiful, and I don’t want to make you feel anything less than that.
I only like this game we play when you’re playing too.
“I—” The ding of the airport tannoy rings out as the lady at the desk announces that our flight is boarding. Before I can get out another word, Katie is up out of her seat, joining the line.
???
“Is there nothing you can do? Our booking specifically states two rooms.”
“I apologize, ma’am, there’s an aviation convention this week; you’ll be seeing a lot of planes up and down, so don’t be alarmed.”
“Right,” she sighs.
“We’ve tagged on a complimentary breakfast for you both.” The lady behind the desk eyes me up and down. “Although I have to say, I wouldn’t mind having to bunk in with him.” She winks.
One room.
It’s not like we didn’t do this four days ago, but this feels different.
For one, she hates me, for real, it seems. Alfie’s warning rings through my ears. And the guilt kicked in during the flight. Like, seriously kicked in. She didn’t talk to me the entire time, just monosyllabic responses to any questions I had, until I was halfway through anotherquestion and she put her headphones on, essentially blocking me out.
When we’re at Lottie’s, I’ve always been a mild annoyance to her. Someone she tolerates, not outright hates. But now, the loathing is rolling off her in waves, and I’m the sucker that’s getting wiped out with it.
We take our key, and when we reach the door, we enter a room that looks like it hasn’t been decorated since the 1950s. Brown floral furnishings greet us with that striped wallpaper that everyone’s grandma used to have. You know the one that has faded into a beige-pink color that's begging to have a few china plates hung on it.
Moving through the small corridor, problem number two arises.
Shit.
One bedroom, and only one bed.
Katie halts, and I nearly barrel into her.
“Well, it’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before, princess,” I say, attempting to lighten the mood. I expect her to argue; hell, I expect her to start snarling before ever sharing a bed with me again. But I get a small nod as she takes the left side, putting her phone on charge in the outlet by her bedside table.
I can’t take this agreeable bullshit from her. It makes me feel worse than anything else we’ve done to each other. All the pranks, the bickering, the full-blown rows over whether you can add curse words to a Scrabble board. Spoiler alert, Iwas wrong. Look it up.
“Do you need to use the bathroom? I’m going to shower.”
“Err, no, you go ahead. I’ll find us something to watch,” I say, pointing to the tiny TV on the mahogany side table. “Unless you want to play some games in preparation for the next game night? I’ll let you choose.”
I’m practically offering an olive branch. At this point, I’d lose on purpose if it meant she gave me some snark. Just a little bite so I know it’s still Katie, and she’s not dead inside.
“Whatever you want.”
She shuffles into the bathroom carrying her toiletries, and as soon as I hear the shower running, I pull out my phone and call Lottie.
“Jacob Jones, to what do I owe the pleasure?” her perfectly poised voice sings through the line, but I don’t have time for niceties.
“I’ve messed up big time, Lottie. Katie’s catatonic, only talking in monosyllables. I’d think she may have had an aneurysm if I weren’t such an asshole fuck-up.”
