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She types away on her desktop and I give her my credit card to make the payment.
“Here you go,” she hands me the key card to the room, “Room three, third floor” she smiles.”
“Thank you,” I turn in the direction of the elevator and Rosaline goes before me.
“Enjoy your stay in the Paramount,” she calls after us.
I grunt quietly as we walk into the elevator.
“Are you good?” Rosaline looks at me and I nod.
I'm not good. No amount of weed can help with her in the same room with me. But I'll try. I'll keep myself in check however I can because the last thing I want to do tonight is cause her any more pain than what she is already carrying in her eyes. She looks lonely and I hate it. Because she is not. I'm here for her.
The elevator stops and we walk out of it and find the room quickly.
“I can take the couch,” she mumbles as I slot the key card in and open the door.
“Stop saying nonsense,” I move away for her to go in.
“It's just I asked for us to share one room, so it's only normal for me to take the couch,” she walks in and a warm light comes on, “I can take the…” she clips her lips.
I walk in after her and close the door to find her staring at the supposed couch she was offering to take. It's a black sex seat. I shake my head, attempting to shake the thought out.
“We can share the bed,” I begin to shrug out of my suit, then walk to a loveseat by the window, “It's big enough for two, and besides what can happen that hasn't happened already?”
“I don't want a man thinking my body belongs to him and trying to access it without my consentagain today.”
I spin in her direction, “Today?” I narrow my eyes, “You are saying someone touched youtoday?”
“It's not…” she stutters.
I scoff, my blood already brewing, “You got fucked today?” I toss my suit on the loveseat and fold my arms across my chest, “Tell me what happened. ”
She gulps, “Nothing.”
I will kill somebody. I will fucking murder someone.
“Rosaline, I won't ask again, who fucked you today?”
“Nobody… he drove me to his apartment in New York and was trying to get me to know how he feels for me, then he kissed me, but I was repulsed so I hit him in the crotch and ran away. I didn't think he would show up again at the wedding…” she rushes her words out.
“What the fuck?” I flare. “The douche from the wedding is the same person you left Boston with? He tried to touch you, but you wouldn't let me kill him ted?” It's happening again. That strong urge I feel to rip something apart.
“It's nothing.”
“It's not nothing.”
“Benedetto I'm good.”
“But I'm not,” I give a dry chin-lift smile, “Why did you leave Boston?”
“I couldn't stand to be there anymore, I wanted to…”
“You couldn't tell me?”
“Why would I tell you?”
“You left with a man, Rosaline…”
