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“I don’t know,” I said. She leaned back against the elevator wall as I watched people get in and get off the elevator.
At last, we reached our floor and shoved through to get out before the doors closed on us.
The room was really nice, I had to admit. There were cozy robes hung the closet, a beautiful bathroom, and two queen-sized beds.
Natalie sat down on the bed and sighed, as if she was the one who’d flown across the country and driven the truck. I guess packing was probably strenuous, but still.
“I need to call Wyatt,” I said, and then went to the bathroom and shut the door.
My first call to him went to voice mail after a few rings. I tried again, but nothing. I texted him. Nothing. Then I called again and decided to leave a message.
“I don’t know if you did this on purpose, which I think you did, so you owe me. You fucking owe me, Wyatt. Don’t pull this shit again. It’s not cool. Bye.”
I was shaking with rage when I hung up and had to lean on the sink to try and calm down.
There was a soft knock at the door.
“What?” I snapped.
“Are you okay?”
“No,” I said. “Just leave me alone.”
“Okay,” she said, and I went to sit on the edge of the tub.
You will not believe what is happening right now I sent to Paige.
What?
Wyatt lied to me about booking me a hotel room, so I’m hiding in the bathroom from Natalie. We have to share one room tonight. I don’t know if I’m going to make it.
That was probably a little dramatic, but I didn’t care.
OH MY GOD, he did not.
Oh, he did. My brother was always pulling shit, and it was my fault for not expecting it.
I also messaged Linley about the drama, and she was completely sympathetic as well.
If he used his card to book, you should order as much room service as possible.
Now that was a brilliant plan.
I couldn’t hide in the bathroom forever, and I didn’t want Natalie to think I was afraid of her, so I allowed myself one more deep breath before I stood up and left the bathroom. Natalie was sitting on one of the beds.
“I’m sorry,” she said again
“You’ve got to stop apologizing. It’s getting annoying,” I said.
She’d turned on the TV and someone was getting violently stabbed in a bad reenactment. I should have known. Natalie and her murder shows.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, and then cringed.
I just sighed and lay back on the other bed.
“It is what it is. Let’s just get through it.”
I rolled onto my side and found her watching me.
