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And what if in the end she didn’t feel the same?
Willow
It was late when we stopped, nearing ten at night, but I was still wired.
It might’ve had something to do with the Red Bull I had about an hour ago. Dean had told me not to drink it, but I never listened to him even when I should. I’d downed it in five seconds flat and now I was all jittery.
Dean unloaded the car and handed me my duffle bag, which I crossed over my body.
Once he had his duffle bag and guitar case we headed inside and up to our room.
Dean set his stuff down on the bed beside the wall, leaving the one by the window open for me.
I dropped my bags on the floor and strode over to the open window, which looked down on the pool.
“I’m going swimming,” I declared, turning towards my bag.
Dean froze, eyes wide. “You heard the receptionist. It’s closed already.”
I rolled my eyes. “Nothing would ever be accomplished if people always followed the rules. They’re meant to be broken.”
“No,” he countered, slicing his hands through the air, “I’m pretty sure they exist to prevent you from doing something stupid.”
I sighed, my hands dropping to my hips. “If you don’t break the rules you’ll never live.”
He growled and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“You’re the one that keeps reminding me I’ve been different.” I pointed at him accusingly. Raising my arms in a whatcha-gonna-do gesture I added, “This is me being me.”
He squished his eyes closed and let out a hefty sigh. “Fine.”
I grinned triumphantly and did a little victory dance.
I rifled through my bag and pulled out my black bikini—it was the most ninja-like one I’d packed—and scurried into the bathroom.
The door clicked closed behind me and through it I could hear Dean mumbling to himself.
“Crazy girl. She’s gonna get us kicked out of here and then we’re going to have to sleep in the car. Probably be attacked by a rabid raccoon.”
I snorted. “A rabid raccoon? Really, Dean?” I said through the door.
“Stop eavesdropping!”
“I don’t think it counts as eavesdropping when you’re talking to yourself. Besides, these walls are paper thin.” I shimmied my shorts down my hips.
He grumbled some more, which only served to make me laugh.
I folded my clothes—and by folded I meant I scrunched them in a ball—and carried them back out to the room.
Dean had changed into a pair of green swim shorts and a plain white t-shirt.
I felt severely underdressed.
He looked up from where he’d been fiddling with his phone and I swore I heard him gasp.
My whole body heated with a flush and I quickly reached for a long tank to cover myself and slipped into a clean pair of shorts.
When I glanced over my shoulder Dean was still looking at me.
