Chapter 36 I’m Sorry, Sir, There’s Only One Room Available
I’m Sorry, Sir, There’s Only One Room Available
Connor
“I’m sorry, sir, there is only one room available, and it is one of our singles with a king-sized bed.”
Guilt punches me in the gut. I should have called the hotel ahead of time to check availability. I sneak a peek over at Maize, seeing her teeth on that cuticle again. Her poor hands are going to be raw by the end of today.
“There is nothing else? You’re sure?” I press.
The man behind the desk, a scrawny middle-aged gentleman who looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here right now, slowly looks back at his computer screen. He presses a few buttons on the keyboard, but I can tell he is only pretending to look to appease us. I run a shaky hand through my hair.
“We’re all full with Thanksgiving travelers avoiding the snow. Will you be booking the room or not?” The receptionist smiles, but it’s hollow.
“We’ll take it,” I answer without hesitating this time. We need a place to stay, and the next hotel is another forty-five minutes away. Getting there would put us in danger of the storm, and I’m not risking Maize like that.
I pull out my credit card to hand to the man, but Maisie grabs my wrist and shakes her head. “I have the emergency credit card my dad gave me. They insisted on paying, remember?”
It doesn’t feel right to accept money from her parents, but that’s probably because I’ve had to work for everything—excluding when Grandpa would help when he could, of course—since Dad left. Well, until I accepted the apartment, that is.
As she hands over the card, I do a quick scan of her body.
Her cheeks are rosy from the cold and her chestnut hair is windswept.
She’s breathtaking. I’m worried the sleeping version of Connor won’t be able to keep his hands to himself.
As I’m appreciating, I realize she suddenly looks calm.
She’s not shaking or biting or anything anymore. That’s peculiar.
I’m ripped from my thoughts as the receptionist says, “Here’s your receipt, ma’am.
Room 108. Pool is just down the hall from your room if you’re interested, and breakfast is from eight to eleven tomorrow.
We also already have emergency services prepped in the event the storm reaches us, so nothing to worry about.
” He hands her two sets of room keys, and Maisie hands one off to me.
“Thanks,” she says, and shuffles away from the desk.
She’s already heading back outside, presumably to go grab our luggage, but I tug on her lean, muscled arm.
She skids to a stop, her eyes swinging to me.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, the worry I’ve grown familiar with etching itself across her beautiful face.
“Are you okay with this?” I ask.
Her features soften and her shoulders drop. “Yeah, we’re adults. It’ll be fine, Connor. We can make a pillow fort between us or something. Why do you seem so worried?” Her eyebrow arches in challenge.
“I…I’m not,” I stammer, giving away that my words aren’t exactly true. “I was just worried about you. You know, with another change in plans and all… But if you’re good, then…” I let my words hang.
“I’m good,” she says with a roguish smile.
“Good. That’s…good,” I say, and she covers a laugh with her hand.
“All right, good. Should we get our luggage?” She hooks a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of my worn-down Civic.
“After you, my Queen,” I say, stepping back into the make-believe characters we developed upon starting this trip.
She pretends to pinch a make-believe ball gown’s skirts and steps off the sidewalk’s edge into the parking lot. Her goofy side is my absolute favorite.
Maisie
I was nervous at first when the hotel clerk said there was only one room with one bed left, but then my perspective shifted.
A sleepover with my handsome best friend?
It sounded fun. The nerves snuck back in when Connor seemed so hesitant, but then chilled again when we moved into a safe, goofy middle ground.
He carried our luggage inside, ever the gentleman, and now we’re standing outside our room. Nothing left to do but go inside.
I reach out to swipe the key card and open the door.
Connor is right behind me, holding the door open over my head.
His nearness causes my body to heat. I hope I’m not visibly red.
We make our way into the room, and sure enough, there is one king-sized bed in the middle.
The room is basic. There isn’t even a couch or plush chair.
Just the bed, two nightstands, a dresser that the TV is standing on, and a bathroom off to the left of the entryway.
I peek over to see Connor’s reaction. He’s a little flushed, but that could be from carrying two people’s luggage. It’s getting dark outside. I hear his stomach grumble.
“Should we order that room service now?” I suggest.
He laughs. “Guess that would be a good idea. Do you, uh, have a side of the bed preference?”
“The side furthest from the door,” I say without hesitation.
He quirks a smile, but doesn’t say anything else, just shifts to move my bag onto the luggage cart. He sets his own down on the floor.
“I think I might take a quick shower.” I point haphazardly toward our shared bathroom. “Do you need to use it before I do?”
Now I know his tinted cheeks are from embarrassment and not physical exertion. “Nope, I’m all good. Have a nice shower,” he says, voice pitching up and eyes darting away like I’ve caught him doing something he shouldn’t.
I laugh and step into the bathroom to start the shower. I then remember his gurgling stomach, so I quickly shout through the door, “Order me a burger, please!”
He fires back a garbled “Okay!”
I sigh as steam quickly fills the small space, and I can’t help but think of the amazing man just outside the bathroom door as I strip down and step into the warm spray. Part of me wishes he were stepping in with me.