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“With all due respect, ma’am.” Alvin puffs out his already too big stomach. “Have you seen the weather out there? They’re forecasting this rain won’t let up until the early morning, and with those high-speed winds—”
Probably knowing this conversation might not end well given my state of mind, Tom ends the discussion by butting in. “Alvin, you mentioned a hotel. Would you mind taking us there? A hot shower, dry clothes, and hot food will make all this seem not so bad.”
I hold my tongue and drop my gaze to the dark floor. It looks like we aren’t going anywhere tonight.
“Sure thing.” Alvin waves to Harvey. “Luckily, I called ahead and they’re holding the last available room for me.”
* * *
The hotel isn’t a hotel.
The first thing that comes to my mind is the Bates Motel, and the storm doesn’t help quell my nerves as we get checked in. The clerk at the front desk mentions at least a dozen times how lucky we are to get a room. They are fully booked—this I find hard to believe—and lucky us, we got the last room.
The only thing busy around here is the diner attached to the motel. Through a connecting door in the lobby, the hustle and bustle of a hopping establishment filters through to where we are standing. And it’s the only thing keeping my heart rate in check and erasing the fear of being murdered tonight.
Despite my foul mood, I thank Alvin for his help and tip him well. Tom watches the exchange with a strange expression and remains quiet all the way to our room.
Great. The room is subpar at best with the décor and furniture from the sixties. To make matters worse, there’s only one bed and it’s barely a queen.
None of this fazes Tom as he rummages through his bag. “You take a shower first, and once I’m done, we can get something to eat at the diner.”
Exhausted and upset with not only our situation but also myself, I resist the desire to scream and cry. Instead, I nod curtly and take my bag into the bathroom.
After my shower, Tom wordlessly slips into the bathroom, and I finish putting on my makeup and drying my hair in the bedroom. I run my fingers through my now clean hair when my phone rings. It’s Fallon.
With the phone pressed to my ear, I continue to style my hair. “Hi.”
“L, are you okay?”
I’d texted Fallon throughout tonight’s ordeal, and upon hearing her voice, I no longer want to rehash the night’s events.
“Hey, Fal. I’m okay. I feel a million times better and more myself now that I’m showered and warm.” I toss my handbag onto the bed and pace the dirty carpet.
“What happened?” Her question prompts my unloading of everything.
Until now, I’d held back from telling her that Tom and I had kissed, let alone had sex. But now, in a moment of need or weakness or whatever, I let it all spill out.
From the strange electric connection that has been growing between Tom and me throughout this road trip to sleeping together, Mount Blue Sky, the rainstorm, and I finish with describing the motel from hell.
Fallon’s high-pitched squeal grounds me in the present. “Back up a sec. You had sex with Tom in Vail and you’re only telling me about it now?” She doesn’t even wait for me to respond and charges on. “What the hell, L? Tell me everything. How was it? Has he got a huge cock? I bet that guy’s packing. And what do you mean you think he wanted to kiss you?”
“Fallon, shut up.” I hiss and recoil at the snake-like sound of my voice as I regret telling her anything.
The memory of Tom and me alone in the truck and our near kiss fills my head. It wasn’t that long ago and yet it feels like I’ve ruined everything with my foul mood.
“Hey, chill,” she coos, not in the least put off by my snappish tone, and this softens my hard edges.
“I’m sorry.” I rub at my forehead. “What I mean is I think he might have kissed me if we weren’t interrupted.” Or at least this is what I hope.
She squeals, and I flinch and yank the phone from my ear before she deafens me. “Oh, no. Don’t you go all heart eyes on me. I don’t know if Vail was a one-time thing and—”
Behind me, Tom clears his throat, and I twirl around to face him. He saunters from the bathroom. Oh my God. Did he overhear my conversation?
My cheeks burst into flames.
“Uh, Fallon, I gotta go.” I don’t bother to even say goodbye, and I’m already anticipating the tongue-lashing she’ll give me for that.
But right now, all I’m aware of is Tom, bare-chested with a towel slung low on his narrow hips.
