Chapter 11
Emmett
Sitting up, I grab the water bottle off the nightstand, unscrewing the cap and bringing it to my lips to chug. But I quickly find out that there are only about three drops of water left and they do absolutely nothing to quench my thirst.
Fuck this night.
The sushi we had for dinner has me parched as hell. I can’t seem to find the right temperature to regulate the room to a comfortable spot. And all of it conspires to keep me from finding a moment of sleep.
I sound like a goddamn diva but fuck it. Maybe I am.
The neon green numbers displayed on the bedside clock remind me that it’s just after two in the morning and I’m far too old to still be awake. And right now, the only thing I can focus on is the lack of water in my hotel room and how dehydrated I am, so I decide to start there.
I find a pair of gym shorts in my suitcase and throw on the shirt I was wearing earlier today to head down to the lobby.
I shove my feet in a pair of shoes by the door, grab a room key, then try to fix the thermostat one last time.
I press the down arrow, but the screen is displaying the lowest setting at sixty-five, though it has to be at least another ten degrees warmer than that.
I toggle with the fan switch, but still nothing in the room changes.
The hall is silent when I step out of my room, the elevator is empty as I ride it to the main level, and the small market next to the lobby is fully stocked, thank God.
I grab the largest bottle of water out of the refrigerator, unscrew the top before I’ve paid for it, and chug it back.
It’s fucking glorious.
Cold and refreshing and makes me believe I may actually be able to get to sleep now. But that hope is quickly paused while my head is tipped back, mid-swallow, and I hear a familiar voice in the lobby next to me.
“Any room would do,” Reese says.
“I’m so sorry.” That must be the man working behind the front desk. “But we’re completely sold out for the night.”
Turning the corner, I find Reese at the front desk, pleading eyes locked on the hotel employee. Her nose is a bright pink. Her cheeks too. Even her lips seem to have shifted to a different color than they typically are as they tremble with each word out of her mouth.
I can’t quite tell if she was crying, if she’s sick, or if she’s just really cold.
But then her clothes answer that question for me.
Her blonde hair is tucked beneath the hood of a sweatshirt.
But that sweatshirt has one of her work blazers over it.
And not in a fashionable way. But more like a “I’m cold as hell and didn’t pack any warm layers because I’m in San Diego so why would I” kind of way.
I can also tell she’s wearing at least two pairs of yoga pants right now with tall socks pulled up over them as high as they can go.
But the most shocking part may just be the slippers Reese has on her feet. I never thought I’d live to see the day when polished Reese Remington was caught out of her hotel room in a pair of slippers instead of her high heels.
It all contributes to the way I’m cautiously walking toward her as if I were approaching a feral animal who’s hurt and just needs a bit of help.
“Please,” she begs. “You must have a hotel partner close by who you could call and see if they have an extra room available? I just need to get a few hours of sleep.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. There’s a popular convention going on this weekend. All the hotels have been booked out for months.”
Her face is equal parts desperate and defeated.
“But I’ll send the mechanic up as soon as he gets here.”
“Okay, great.” There’s a flash of hopefulness in her tone. “And when is that?”
The employee looks down, probably checking the day’s schedule. “He’ll be in at nine.”
Reese exhales this whiney groan sort of sound before dropping her head onto her folded arms and resting on the check-in desk.
I take another cautious step closer. “Everything okay?”
She perks up but then rolls her eyes and drops her head back down when she spots me. “You’re too late. Your reporter girlfriend just left the bar with someone else, but you might be able to catch her if you hurry.”
I bite back my laughter. “Well, aren’t you just a ray of fucking sunshine at this time of the day.”
“Not tonight, Emmett. I haven’t slept and I’m too exhausted to spar with you.”
“Good. I may actually win one for once, but then again, probably not.” I lean an elbow on the desk next to her. “I haven’t slept either.”
She’s got this optimistic look of comradery when she lifts her head again. “Is your room also so cold that you can no longer feel your fingers?”
“I’m having the opposite problem. It’s a little too warm.”
“God, that sounds like heaven.”
“The thermostat seems to be broken.”
“Sorry about that, sir,” the front desk employee cuts in. “As I was telling Ms. Remington, our maintenance staff will be here at nine and can take a look for you. We seem to be having an issue regulating the temperature on your floor right now. Not sure what’s going on with the system.”
“And you have no other rooms she can get some sleep in until then?”
“I’m so sorry, but we don’t. We’re at full capacity.” He directs his attention to Reese. “But we’ll make sure that you’re not charged for your stay tonight and I can send some extra blankets up to your room.”
She offers him the best smile she can muster, which is a pretty sad and pathetic one if we’re being honest. “Sure. Thank you.”
“Or if you’d like, I can see if I can find you a room outside of the downtown area. You may have to take a rideshare about twenty minutes—”
“That’s not happening,” I cut in. “She can stay in my room.”
The words are out before I can think better of them.
“No.” She huffs a startled laugh before redirecting her attention to the hotel employee. “Yes, please. I’m fine jumping in a rideshare.”
“You’re not getting in a rideshare in the middle of the night to find a random hotel twenty minutes away, Reese. You’re staying in my room.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“Don’t be ridiculous and I won’t have to. I’ll call Kai and Miller to see if I can crash in their room.”
“Absolutely not. They have a sleeping toddler with them. The last thing I need is for you to wake them up because your boss is too much of a princess to sleep in a slightly chilly room.”
I place the back of my hand against her pink cheek, and I’m stung with how sharp the cold is. She’s more than slightly chilly. She’s absolutely frozen right now.
“Jesus. How fucking cold is your room, Reese?”
I can tell she wants to lie to me, to tell me it’s just a few degrees below comfortable, but thankfully she’s too tired to attempt to bullshit me. Sure, she doesn’t give me any response, but that’s enough to let me know it’s unbearably cold in her room.
“You’re going to get sick if you go back in there. You’ll be lucky if you haven’t already. You’re sleeping in my room.”
“Emmett, I can’t do that.”
There’s enough conviction in her tone that it makes me pause. I don’t want her to do something that will make her uncomfortable, but I’m also not going to let her drive across town with a stranger to some random hotel, because that’s something that will make me uncomfortable.
I keep my voice low for only her to hear. “You can’t do that because you’re uncomfortable with it, or you can’t do it because you’re worried someone might find out?”
She doesn’t respond, but she looks up at me, making eye contact and silently telling me her answer.
“No one will find out, Reese. Everyone is in their room asleep, and you can have the bed. Besides, if I were you, more than anything, I’d be more concerned that someone might catch you in this outfit.”
She exhales a laugh, and I watch as her walls retreat just a hair.
I turn to the staff member. “Can you have a rollaway bed sent up for me, please?”
He offers me a sheepish smile. “They’re all being used tonight, unfortunately.”
“Of course they are.”
I look to Reese, letting her be the one to make the final call on this.
“We’ll figure it out,” she says, completely defeated. “Let’s just go. I’m exhausted.”
I hold up the two water bottles, one unopened and one nearly empty for the clerk to add them to my room charge.
“Those are on the house,” he says.
“Should be. Making me share a room with this one and all.”
Reese just shakes her head at me, but I see the smile playing on her lips as she turns toward the elevator. “I’m going to be real freaking pissed if you end up being a snorer.”