Room Upgrade (Hill Crest Hideaway)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

CATO

Sitting next to Kyle on the plane, I glance out the window, watching our descent.

Kyle is busy on his phone, playing some sort of slot game.

This is typical for us lately—two people, together but separate.

Hopefully, this weekend getaway is exactly what we need to reignite that spark we first felt two years ago.

“Are you excited?” I ask.

Kyle glances up, nodding. “Yeah. Sure. Weather should be nice.”

“Definitely. There’s so much to do too. We won’t be bored.”

He nods, returning his attention to his phone.

I notice the woman across the aisle staring at my boyfriend, trying to be sly about it but failing.

I get it. Kyle is hot. He looks like the typical Southern California surfer with wavy blond hair, big blue eyes, and a Hollywood smile.

He’s not from California though. He’s from Detroit.

I’m no slouch in the looks department, but Kyle is one of those people everyone stares at.

I thought I snagged a prize, but sometimes he can be very distant. Even more so lately.

It doesn’t help that I’ve been slammed trying to get my freelance writing business off the ground. I haven’t had as much time to nurture our relationship. Hence this weekend away from home to reconnect. Assuming I can lure that phone out of his hand.

As the plane taxis, we start gathering our things. Kyle glances at me, offering a slight smile. He looks at me like that a lot lately. I’m never sure what he’s thinking, and I won’t bother asking. After two years, I’ve learned if Kyle wants me to know what he’s thinking, he’ll tell me.

After exiting the plane and grabbing our bags, we find ground transportation and catch a ride to the hotel.

I can’t wait to see it. The Hillcrest Hideaway is supposed to be a tucked-away bungalow-style hotel in an LGBTQ+ friendly area right in the heart of San Diego.

It’s six miles from the beach, which isn’t horrible.

The pics online were inviting and looked like a nice romantic place to spend a weekend.

It’s a short drive from the airport, but when we arrive, I double-check the sign in front. It doesn’t quite look like the pristine place represented online. The landscaping is overgrown and the paint on the sign is chipping. Hopefully, the inside is nice.

Outside, I inhale the warm, salt-tinged air. This is nothing like what we get back in Phoenix. It’s late morning, but the sun is already tempting me to hit the beach.

“This doesn’t look like the pictures you showed me,” Kyle says with a huff.

“Please don’t be a diva. It’s not a five-star hotel, but I’m sure it’s nice. Let’s just go inside and check it out.”

We grab our luggage and drag it up the steep driveway that leads to the hotel entrance.

Kyle already looks put out, so I cross my fingers that the room makes up for it.

Those hopes wane when we enter the lobby.

It’s definitely seen better days. The wicker furniture looks like it’s been here since the eighties and the peeling palm tree wallpaper isn’t doing much to convince me it hasn’t.

Behind the imposing front desk is a tiny female with long black hair.

I say tiny because she’s barely tall enough to clear the desk.

A man with long white hair is behind her, but he has his back turned to us.

She bumps him with her elbow, and he swings around, looking frantic but then smiling when he sees us.

“Guests. Welcome to Hillcrest Hideaway. Are you checking in?”

Kyle makes a noise of contempt, but I ignore it. “We are. Cato Michaels.”

The woman flips open a big book, dragging her hand down the page. “Michaels. Got it. You’re in room 300.”

“Three hundred,” the man repeats, turning to a wall of old-school keys. That’s cute. “Here we are. I’ll walk you to your room.”

“Great,” I answer while Kyle continues to look unamused.

The man steps out from behind the counter, wearing bright-yellow pants that only come to his calf and a long tunic of sorts in orange. Colorful. “I’m Howie. I own the place.”

Smiling, I nod. “Nice. How long have you been in business?”

“Oh, the place has been here since the sixties, but I took over about five years ago.”

“So there’s some history here?”

“Definitely. The original owners were a trailblazing gay couple. I’m proud to carry on the tradition.”

“Did they pass away?”

Howie looks back at me over his shoulder. “No, no. They just retired. No kids or family who wanted to take over, so they put it on the market.”

“Lucky.”

“I think so.” He pushes the lobby doors open into a tropical paradise.

We’re surrounded by palm trees and water features. It’s hard to believe we’re still in San Diego. It looks like Hawaii.

“Special occasion?” Howie asks.

“No,” Kyle answers far too abruptly for my taste.

“Just a weekend away,” I add.

“Nothing wrong with that,” Howie replies. After a long meander through the courtyard, he stops in front of a door. “Here’s your room. You have a pool view, and the hotel restaurant is just down this walkway and to the left.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. If you need anything at all, just press zero on your phone and let Lani at the front desk know. Enjoy your stay.”

“Thanks, Howie.”

He walks off, leaving Kyle and me in the entrance. I push the door open, immediately hit with a musty smell. Kyle scrunches his nose as he walks in behind me. Other than the smell, the room is decent. It’s clean and looks like the online pictures.

“Maybe it’s been a while since anyone has stayed here.”

Kyle nods, tossing his carry-on onto the bed. “Yeah.”

I open the drapes, taking in the view of the grounds. An ocean view would’ve been nice, but ocean-facing properties weren’t in our budget this time. Kyle is already looking at his phone when I twist around.

“Do you want to go walk around the property?”

“Why?” he asks, not even looking up at me.

“To check it out. Or we can grab a ride and go to the beach for the day. Unless you’re hungry. We could get lunch.”

Kyle sighs. “I have to make some calls.”

I cross my arms. “For work?” He nods. “You said you wouldn’t work this weekend.”

“I know.” He walks over to me, putting his hand on my waist. “I’m sorry.

I really tried to tell them I wouldn’t be available, but one of the clients is being a total asshole.

He’s threatening to pull his account if he doesn’t hear from me.

Give me an hour to deal with this, and then I promise I’m yours the rest of the weekend. ”

I nod. I’m disappointed, but he’s the VP of his department. There’s always a fire or two. “I can leave the room.”

“No,” Kyle says. “Rest. You were up late finishing your project. A nap wouldn’t kill you. By the time you wake up, I’ll be done, and we can go explore. How’s that sound?”

“Good.”

He smiles, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “I’ll do my best to make it quick.”

“Thank you.”

Kyle grabs his computer—the one he said he wasn’t bringing—from his bag before waving at me as he heads out the door.

Well. This is great. I kick off my shoes.

Not exactly how I envisioned our romantic weekend starting, but I’ll deal with it.

Kyle’s job is important. I shouldn’t complain since he funds a lot of our life together.

A nap isn’t a terrible idea though. I lie back on the bed, slightly bouncing on it. It’s a little lumpy but not bad. The place is a little more rundown than the online pictures, but it’s got an appeal to it. It’ll do for a three-day stay.

Hopefully, by the end of the weekend, Kyle and I will find our way back to the bliss we enjoyed at the beginning of our relationship.