Under the Texas Sky

CHAPTER 29

KIAN

“Why the hell are we skiing? I’m pretty sure it’s in one of my contracts that I’m not allowed to do extreme sports,” I whine to Willow, lugging my heavy ass bag filled with winter clothes out of her car. The bite from the cold air hurts my chest on each inhale.

“Because it’ll be fun! Klaus is meeting us here, and it’ll just be the three of us enjoying a luxury resort. We’ll ski for, like, five minutes max. Just long enough for us to get some pictures before we come back inside to warm up. I wasn’t built for this cold weather.”

I roll my eyes, because this was her idea.

The resort is freaking packed too, all of the families milling around outside with their gaggles of kids. But I don’t want to point that out, because she’ll get upset and it’ll become a big deal. This is what she gets for deciding to come the week after Christmas.

A bellhop rushes over to us with a cart and grabs Willow’s bags and then mine. He leads the way, and we follow him up the sidewalk to the wide glass doors. When they slide open, we’re hit with a burst of hot air that burns my slightly numb fingers.

“Right here is where you check in. I’ll go ahead and take these to the president’s suite, Miss Roberts.”

“Perfect, thank you…” Willow pauses to read his name tag. “Myles.”

His face flushes as he scurries away.

“Don’t scare the poor boy,” I tease her, while we wait in line to check in and get our room key.

“I wasn’t trying to scare him. He was adorable.”

I snort, but I don’t say anything else while she pulls out her phone and quickly types out a message. I look around at all the over the top decorations. They really went all out on trying to make this place exuberant.

“Klaus got stuck. He won’t be here until tomorrow,” Willow informs me.

Thank god. He’s been getting on my nerves worse and worse since my birthday party. At this point, the only reason I’m staying with him is because I’m afraid of being alone. Which is very disappointing to admit to myself, but I pride myself on not being a liar. He’s been pissing me off, though, since we posted that one mutual jerk off video on my OnlyFans. He’s been begging for me to make more content with him ever since. I continually say no, but instead of respecting my decision, he keeps trying to force it on me. It’s annoying being constantly pressured.

There are three couples in front of me and Willow, and I’m tempted to go check out the bar in the back corner of the resort while I wait. It would make time go by faster.

“Trent Matthews,” a voice says in front of us, and my world stops.

That’s dumb. I shake myself free from the tension building in my body. Trent isn’t here. Trent wouldn't leave the state of Texas for any reason.

I try to look around the people in front of me just to double check, because something in my gut tells me he’s actually here. No matter how hard I try to convince myself he’s not.

Willow grabs my arm, pulling me out of line and toward the elevators.

“Wait–” I start, but she cuts me off with, “I just got a message that our room is ready and Myles is waiting up there with our keys.” She wiggles her eyebrows and presses the up button.

I crane my neck around to see if I can catch a glimpse of him.

I don’t see anyone who resembles Trent, and I blow out a deep breath. I’m not sure if it’s a relieved feeling or disappointment.

???

Last night was a blur of tequila shots and Willow drunk texting everyone in her phone. It was fun, but what’s not fun is waking up with a headache from hell and nausea burning the back of my throat. God, I need an IV to hydrate me, but I’ll have to stick to water and a few ibuprofens.

I usually stow my medicine bag in the front of my suitcase, and it holds a variety of medicine and extra septum rings in case I decide to change that out while I’m up here. I like to be ready for anything.

But my medicine bag isn’t in the front, so I tear apart my suitcase looking for it. It isn’t anywhere. What the hell? I never go anywhere without it, because what if I get sick? Sometimes when I travel to modeling shoots, it’s a hassle to be able to get to the store and get medicine, so I always pack my own. Always.

“Where’s my medicine bag?” I ask Willow, who currently has a pillow over her head, also fighting off the impending sickness.

“I took it out before we left. I needed your Pepto because I ran out,” she groans out, her voice muffled.

“Did you put it back in here?” I know the answer before I finish my question.

“No, I left it on top so you could repack it. I didn’t know how you had it in there.”

You have to absolutely be joking with me right now.

“I’m sorry, Kian. I’ll run downstairs and get you some medicine,” she says.

I wave her off even though she can’t see me. I love Willow to death, I do. But sometimes, more often lately, it's been a pain to deal with her. She’s fun and she’s always so helpful to people who need it. Yet it’s always me who gets the short end of the stick.

“I’ll be back. Don’t wait up.”