Chapter Twenty-Four
Adam
“No, there is a mistake,” I tell the hotel staff adamantly.
“I’m sorry, sir, but there is only one room booked.”
“I am certain I booked two rooms,” I say firmly.
I didn’t screw this up. I booked two rooms. One for me and one for Emmet. I specifically remember changing it to two rooms.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Emmet says, putting his hand on my shoulder. “We’ll get another room.”
“Though that seems like the simplest solution here,” the staff begins, typing something on the computer before looking up at us. “We are booked solid.”
Booked solid.
I grit my teeth and open my mouth, my temper threatening to come out.
“It’s okay,” Emmet says, stepping up to the counter and taking charge. “One room is fine. I assume there is a couch or something?”
“There is, yes. It’s small, but uh…” She looks him up and down. “You may fit.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he says calmly, as if this isn’t a big deal. “Just get us the key and whatever he needs to sign.”
“Of course, sir.”
She finishes up on the computer, slides me a paper to sign, then hands us each a key card.
“You’re in room 612. Once you get off the elevator, you’ll go right and then left at the end of the hall.” Her smile is bright and practiced.
“Thank you,” Emmet says kindly.
My temper is still flaring, so I say nothing. I grab my suitcase and head toward the elevator, pulling my cell from my pocket. I open my email as we get into the car and Emmet presses the button for the sixth floor.
“What are you doing?” he asks..
“Checking my email. I booked two rooms.”
He nods, standing beside me and staring ahead at the doors.
I find the email buried in my confirmation folder and scroll to the bottom.
“No way,” I say as I stare at the number of rooms listed. “I hit two rooms, Emmet. I swear I did.”
“Adam, it’s not a problem. We used to have sleepovers all the time.”
“When we were kids.”
“What are adults but big kids?” he says with a smile.
And that right there makes everything okay.
The tension leaves my shoulders.
The air releases from my lungs.
I smile and put my phone away.
Because he’s right.
“You’re right. It’s not even a big deal.”
“It’s not,” he says. “It’s just a place to sleep for a few days. No big deal.”
We get off on our floor and head down the hall, going where the staff told us to go. We find the room, and he swipes his key first, pushing the door open.
It’s spacious, everything shiny and clean, decorated in yellow and cream with splashes of black.
The sitting area has a large mirror across from the couch with a long table beneath it, topped with a coffee pot, plastic cups, and a tub for ice.
On the opposite end of the room are sliding glass doors that lead onto a terrace.
There’s hardly much space between them and the king-sized bed.
The TV across from it is large and mounted to the wall, a long dresser beneath it.
There’s a closet with sliding doors, and a bathroom of course, that’s all white with a shower/tub combo.
Emmet drops his bag by the couch, that in no way is going to fit his large body.
“You can sleep in the bed, Emmet,” I say as I head to the dresser to put my bag down.
“I’m not making you sleep on the couch,” he says.
I turn to face him. “I meant we could share the bed.” I swear his cheeks turn pink, but maybe it’s the lighting. I gesture to the bed. “It’s a king. We’ll have plenty of space, and we’ve done it plenty of times before.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind the couch.”
“You aren’t going to fit on that, Emmet. Don’t be crazy.” I walk over to him and grab his arm. “Come on.”
I bring him toward the bed, turn him, and grab both of his arms to make him sit on the bed.
“See? Isn’t it comfy?” I ask.
There’s a weird look on his face, and I can’t tell what it means.
So I give him a playful shove and he falls onto his back.
I have the strangest urge to straddle his hips, something I’ve done so many times in the past, so before I do that and make this weird, I hurry to my bag to start unpacking.
From the corner of my eye, I see him get up and go to his bag.
“There are enough drawers for you.”
“I don’t unpack when I’m in a hotel,” he says.
I look at him over my shoulder. “Why the hell not?”
“One: I don’t want to forget anything. Two: why waste time putting everything away, just to pack it all up again when I leave? Seems like a waste of time.”
“This won’t take me long,” I comment.
“No?” He smirks, toeing his shoes off before walking toward the bed and diving onto it, then rolls so he’s lying on his back. He crosses his ankles. “Well, I’m already done.” He grabs the remote from the end table and turns on the TV to scroll through the guide as I work on organizing my clothes.
When everything is in the drawers, I put my suitcase in the closet and bring my smaller bag into the bathroom to get everything set up in there.
Emmet hasn’t brought anything in the bathroom yet, but I save him space on the counter for when he does.
I get out of the bathroom and move to the side of the bed.
“You need to move over.”
“Excuse me?” he says, slowly turning his attention on me.
“You’re on my side of the bed.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I do think so. Move.”
He smiles like he’s just thought of something sneaky, then he gets out of the bed.
“Fine. I’ll give you this side of the bed.”
It’s all he says before he walks around to the other side and gets back on. It’s a weird move, since he could have just scooted over. It only makes me think he has something up his sleeve.
I narrow my eyes. “Why do I feel like I’m going to pay for that somehow?”
He shrugs. “No idea what you’re talking about. What are we doing for dinner?”
“Whatever you want,” I tell him as I get into bed.
As I said, there is plenty of space on the bed.
“Hm… anything I want?”
“Are you fucking with me?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says smartly.
I stare at him for a moment, and anyone would think he was fine, but I see the gears turning in his head. He’s up to something, and I don’t know what it is.
Or he just wants me to think he’s up to something…
No, he definitely is. I know him, and he’s thought of something to get back at me for making him move.
I say, “Well, I’m not really in the mood to go anywhere, so if we could do room service tonight, that would be good.”
“Fine by me.”
I get out of bed to get the menu from the table beneath the mirror, then get back into bed. Emmet was hardly on here for long, but the pillow already smells like him. Or maybe that’s because he’s closer than I thought he was. The space between us suddenly seems smaller.
Did he move? Did I?
Why does this suddenly feel like a twin-sized bed?
“Here.”
He takes the menu from me and looks it over. I didn’t catch the prices, but I imagine him ordering the most expensive thing, thinking it’s a way to get back at me. I don’t care about money, so I wouldn’t care if he ordered the entire menu.
“Burger and fries is good.” He hands the menu to me.
“That’s it?”
“Uh… how much do you think I can eat?”
“That’s probably the cheapest thing on there.”
“It isn’t, but even if it was, why does it matter?”
“No reason.” I look over the menu and decide that a burger and fries sounds great. “How do you want it?” I ask as I pick up the phone.
“Medium. Everything on it. Side of ketchup. Oh—and water.”
I dial the line for room service and put in the order. They tell me it will be up in about thirty minutes. When the food arrives, we eat, watch a movie, and the time dwindles down.
Before I know it, it’s time for bed, and my nerves are going haywire.