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Murray
It took me sometime to convince myself to go back to the hotel room. Hours. Midday turned to evening, then night. I drove. I walked around. I sat at the hotel bar nursing a beer and talking to strangers.
Something about being in a hotel room with Yael made the reality of the situation hit me like a ton of fucking bricks. For her, this was no big deal, just like the night of Charlie’s wake. I couldn’t really wrap my head around lying in bed with Yael Aronson. Like casually putting our PJs on and falling asleep together.
It did not compute.
My brain malfunctioned.
When I’d envisioned this wedding charade, the hotel situation had been vague in my mind—but it had never involved sharing a bed. If Yael had led with “we’ll be sharing a bed in a fucking castle,” I would have turned her down flat.
But here I was, all in with no way out.
And so, I avoided that shit until the bar closed down and the hotel became one with the crickets. Nowhere else to go, I rode the elevator up.
Our room was quiet and dark. She’d left the light on in the bathroom, and that small, thoughtful gesture made my chest feel like someone was tinkering around with my gears, cranking them and chipping away the rusted bits.
Her dark hair spilled across her pillow. The way she looked when she was asleep—all soft and peaceful—reminded me exactly why I’d gone running in the first place.
I climbed into bed, stuffing a pillow behind my shoulder so I wouldn’t give into my subconscious and hump Yael in my sleep. I had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate that, and my dick would be mighty pissed at me for giving it ideas.
“Mmm...you’re back.”
Startled, I levered upright and almost jumped out of the bed. Yael’s giggle was husky, and she tossed one of her pillows at me.
“It’s me, your worst nightmare.” She rolled onto her side, peering at me with heavy-lidded eyes.
I clutched my chest, trying to get my racing heart to chill. “Jesus. You were sound asleep.”
“Yeah…well, the flippers you call feet are noisier than any feet should ever be. Plus, I sort of assumed when you didn’t come back for hours and hours you must have died.”
Sinking down into the soft bed, I found her smile in the dark. “Did you think I was a ghost?”
“The thought entered my mind. Then I thought if you were a ghost, you’d be malicious, so I wanted to keep my eye on you until I was sure.”
“That’s a lot of thoughts to have in the two minutes between me entering the room and climbing into bed. Your mind is a scary place, demon.”
“See? Malicious,” she whispered.
“Except I’m not a ghost.”
She reached out and poked my side. “I suppose not. Also, did you forget your shirt?”
“Do you need me to put one on? Am I that offensive?”
“Weren’t you worried about me not keeping my hands to myself?”
“Nah. Not worried about that.” I softly smashed a pillow on her head. “Go to sleep, Yael.”
She edged closer, throwing her arm over the barrier I’d set up. “Where’d you go, Alex?”
“Nowhere. Drove around, then came back and smoked a blunt in my car while I watched a movie. Spent some time in the bar downstairs. I met one of the bridesmaids, Arden. She remembers you from college. She said you intimidated her and you always had the best clothes. A real delight that one.”
The girl had been pretty enough, with shiny dark hair and a tight little body. But I’d been famous for a while now and had met my fair share of fans with ulterior motives, so I could sniff them out pretty easily. Arden had been pretty transparent. She’d wanted to chat me up, but her real goal was for me to tell Yael about her chatting me up. At least, that was the vibe I picked up after the tenth question about mygirlfriend.
Yael didn’t reply for so long, I wondered if she'd fallen asleep. “Did you have sex with her?” The words came out strained, but I wasn’t sure if she was pissed or hurt.
“Do you care?” I countered.
