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“Please call me Hope, and I will. I will, I promise. Not that that probably means much anymore. God, I’m so sorry.” She chewed on her fingernail and stared into the distance. “So just to be clear, where does this leave us? Are you kicking me out?”
The same thought had been churning away in the back of Xavier’s brain the entire conversation. Did he really want to spend more time with someone who brought this much drama into his life? Into what was supposed to be a simple fucking holiday? Was Hope really worth it?
He didn’t have to think about it for long.
He squeezed her leg. It was the longest he had ever gone without touching her, and it had not been a good feeling. He left his hand there while he spoke. “One more question. Why do they want to keep you so close?”
She covered his hand with her own. “I’m not a sex slave or anything. They just get really anxious if I’m not around. That’s all. I’m like their human security blanket.”
He rubbed his nose. Something was off about her story, but for the moment, it was enough.
“Listen, I wish you’d told me sooner, but in the end, it honestly doesn’t matter. Your family, whatever your past was, doesn’t matter. All I care about is the amazing woman sitting right next to me. Everyone else can go and get fucked. I’m travelling with you, not your family or anyone else—you.” He flicked on the turn signal to pass a slow-moving truck. “That’s all I give a shit about. This trip is about us, not them. If you’re cool with that, let’s keep going and see how far we can take this thing. That all right with you?”
Hope stared at him for the longest time. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet. “It’s completely, unbelievably fine.”
They drove on to Miami.
* * *
“Nothing at all?” Xavier asked a little too urgently.
“Nothing, sorry,” he said with a genuinely apologetic look. The redheaded hotel clerk behind the reception desk adjusted his glasses. He shrugged his broad shoulders at Xavier and took a long look at Hope. Well,Emily. Oh, screw it, Hope. He hadn’t changed her name in his phone contacts, and he didn’t intend to. It seemed wrong somehow.
Genuine regret crossed the clerk’s face. “I’m afraid there are no rooms available for…” he checked his computer, “…at least a couple of hours.”
Hope let out a moan. It wasn’t the kind Xavier wanted to hear.
“There’s nothing you can…”
“Nothing, sorry, sir.”
“Can we at least stow our bags?” Xavier asked, his frustration leaking into his voice.
“Yes, of course, sir, around the corner in our baggage room. Here are some tags, just drop them in.”
“Thanks,” he said, imbuing the word with as little meaning as possible.
It wasn’t the clerk’s fault, butdamn. They had driven all that way, talked so much, resolved a great deal, only to be refused a room. After Hope’s in-car confession, they seemed closer, as if a barrier had been knocked down. Once they’d exhausted the topic of Hope’s non-kidnapping their conversation had turned to more familiar territory. He was keen to match his words of support with a more physical display. Together, they’d made grand plans which Hope had described in great detail after taking another nap. The woman could really sleep anywhere. Granted he had done his best to tire her out in Atlanta. She’d repaid the favour. It was a little tender when he sat.
Despite the excessive sleep and tense first few hours before they’d cleared the air, he’d loved their car trip. They’d laughed so hard there had been a few moments when he’d almost careened off the highway. Hope had created all sorts of stupid games to keep them entertained. Most were rubbish, but every one had made him laugh. Like, if you had to screw one of the Golden Girls, who would it be and why type questions or the short lived, what word rhymes withEenusgame.
As they entered the city, they took turns describing the sex acts they would perform on one another. The closer they came to the hotel, the more elaborate and explicit the descriptions became. Some turns of the steering wheel had been problematicas his swollen penis got in the way. Despite his polite requests, Hope had steadfastly refused to relieve his built-up tension in the car. Given the anticipation, Xavier wondered how he’d survive the next few hours fully clothed. He tried to think of other topics, ones that didn’t involve Hope on all fours covered in chocolate pudding.
The lady in question poked him in the ribs. “You with me?”
“Whipped cream. What?”
“You blanked out. People are waiting,” she said jerking her head to the line of hotel guests behind him.
“Oh, right, sorry. Mind wandered.”
“I bet,” she said with a sly grin.
Fuck, he loved that grin.
They moved away from the agitated, semi-politely smiling hotel guests.
Xavier reluctantly picked up his bag and headed where the receptionist had indicated. The heavy silver door opened to the confines of the baggage room. Hope was close behind, her smaller bag in her hand.
