Chapter 23 #2
I hesitate to say sex, already realizing how shitty that sounds. I don’t want to imply that all she and I are doing is having sex. We’ve already agreed it’s more than that. And by the way Riley narrows her eyes, it appears that she understood what I was going to say, and she also finds it shitty.
“You think I only want you to stay with me if you’re going to make me come?”
“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
I glance around the room as if I might find a place to hide.
I don’t suppose I’d fit under the bed. And well, that would be absurd.
But this shift in our dynamic is unsettling.
It feels like I’ve been too vulnerable tonight.
I’ve let her see parts of me that I normally keep hidden, and now I’m worried this will change how she feels about me.
Which isn’t fair, I know. Because she’s let me see all her vulnerable parts, and it’s only made me lo... like her more. But vulnerability is clearly not my strong suit.
When she rises off the bed, I open my mouth to apologize again, but then she wraps her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug, and I have to swallow the lump in my throat instead.
She rubs a hand over my back, and I sink into her.
Being held like this eases the tension in my body.
It even starts to quiet my mind of all the negative thoughts that have been running through it since I first saw Christy in the dining room today.
Riley eventually pulls back, but she keeps one comforting hand on my waist. “I’m not sure if the way your ex treated you has made you think that your worth in a relationship comes from your sexual skills, but I promise, I want you for so much more than that.”
I knew that already. But I can’t deny how nice it is to hear it.
Taking her hand, I give it a long squeeze. “I really shouldn’t have said that. I want you for so much more than sex too.”
She graces me with a soft, beautiful smile. “So will you please stay? I don’t want you to be alone tonight.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “I don’t want to be alone either. I want to be with you.”
With that settled, we both start getting ready for bed.
It’s too early to sleep, but we take a quick shower together, then she puts on a light pink camisole and sleep shorts set, and I wear my T-shirt and underwear.
We get comfortable under the covers and watch TV for a while, occasionally sharing light kisses, until the exhaustion from the day hits me.
Then Riley arranges us with my back to her front, presses a kiss into my hair, and holds me like that as I fall asleep.
She can’t make me forget entirely about Christy, but she makes me feel like I can handle whatever bullshit my ex will try to throw at me. Because as awful as Christy is, she can’t take this from me.
In the morning, I have to work. That’s the only thing that could get me to leave the comfort of Riley’s room. A few of my shirts and shorts have migrated over here in the past couple weeks, so at least I won’t be caught wearing yesterday’s outfit again.
I sneak downstairs and stop at the check-in desk, ignoring the knowing look Danny gives me when he sees me not coming through the front doors. “Can you tell me if a woman named Christy Leary is checked in here?” I ask him. “And how long she’s staying if she is?”
He frowns deeply. “Don’t think I can give out that info.”
“But I work here.”
“Yeah...” His eyes flit to the computer monitor, then back to me. “But you don’t work the desk, so it still feels kind of unethical.”
“Look,” I start, gripping the edge of the desk hard. “I don’t have time for this. It’s my ex-wife. She was here yesterday, and I’d really like you to tell me that luck is finally on my side and she’s already checked out or something.”
Danny’s features soften. But I don’t have time for soft either. I just need answers. “Okay, give me a sec,” he says.
While he does something on the computer, I glance nervously around the lobby, praying Christy doesn’t find me here. I feel like a damn fugitive at my own job, which pisses me off.
Brenden rounds the corner from the hallway right as Danny gives me the bad news.
“Yup. Looks like she checked in yesterday by herself and booked the room for three nights.”
“Damn it.”
“What’s wrong?” Brenden asks.
“My ex-wife is here,” I tell him quickly. I desperately want to escape to the kitchen before I run into her again.
His eyes widen. “Seriously? Why?”
“Don’t know, don’t care,” I say, already briskly walking away.
Brenden, of course, follows me into the kitchen and keeps up the line of questioning. I really don’t have any answers about what the hell she’s doing here, but I do relay to him what happened yesterday and how I ran up to Riley’s room to get away from her.
“And now I somehow need to dodge her for the next two days too,” I complain.
“What can I do?” Brenden asks.
Kick her out.
I don’t say that, because I know he can’t. So I tell him, “Nothing. I can handle it.”
“Are you sure? Because if you want me to set a bunch of bed bugs loose in her room, I will.”
Crossing to the coffee machine, I turn it on and get a pot ready to brew, because I know he’ll want it. “Where would you find bed bugs?”
He seems to consider that. “Huh. I dunno.”
“And you don’t want word to get out that this place has bed bugs.”
He rolls his eyes. “Fine, you’re right. No bed bugs.” Grabbing himself a mug, he says, “How about I have one of the maids sneak in and pour Nair in her shampoo?”
I stifle my laugh at that ridiculous idea. It would definitely be satisfying. But I don’t want to encourage him at all, because I’m not one-hundred percent certain he wouldn’t actually do it. And I wouldn’t put it past Christy to sue him.
“I’ll be fine,” I assure him. And I mostly believe it. I’m going to do my best to avoid her until she leaves, but I don’t think she can do anything to hurt me worse than she already has.
Brenden stays long enough for the coffee to finish brewing, then he leaves me alone. I’m not alone for long, though, before the rest of the kitchen staff shows up. We get things ready for the breakfast service, and I do my best to put Christy’s cheating, stalking ass out of my mind.
That’s ruined by nine-thirty when a server tells me there’s a guest in the dining room demanding to speak to the kitchen manager.
“I’m going to kill her,” I snap, causing the server to take a hasty step away from me. I apologize and take a few deep breaths to tame my irritation before going out there. Or attempt to tame it, at least. I can still feel a sense of rage simmering under the surface.
I march into the dining room and straight over to Christy’s table. I don’t immediately start yelling, so maybe the breathing did help a little.
“Good morning,” she says in a falsely pleasant tone. As if she didn’t summon me to her against my will.
“Is there a problem with your food?” I ask, my voice dripping with a sarcasm that hopefully none of the guests at the other tables can hear. Luckily, it’s not too full in here.
Christy smiles. “No, the food is delicious. The chef is wonderful.”
“Okay, cut the crap,” I hiss. “What do you want?”
“I think I’ve made it clear that I want to talk to you.”
“And I’ve made it more than clear that I don’t want that. So you need to leave.”
She makes an obnoxious tutting sound. “I’m a paying guest. And I’m not leaving until we talk.”
I heave a long sigh. Someone give me strength and patience and don’t let me kill her. “If you insist on doing this to me, we need to do it in private. Not in the middle of my workplace.”
“Then let’s go somewhere private,” she says.
“I’m working,” I emphasize. “I’ll meet you when I’m done after lunch.”
“Sounds good to me.” The smile she gives me now is a bit twisted, almost like she’s gloating that she’s won. I want to rip that smile off her face and shove it up her ass, but I can’t make a scene. “I’ll be right here waiting for you,” she adds, which sounds an awful lot like a threat.
“Super,” I bite out. Then I turn around and hightail it back to the kitchen.
For the rest of the breakfast service and throughout lunch, I periodically ask the servers if Christy’s still out there, and every time, they report that she is. So it seems she hasn’t lost any of her stubbornness since we were together.
I rush through the clean up after lunch, because at this point, I just want to get this disaster over with. As soon as Sam arrives to take over for the dinner shift, I go out to face my past that I thought I’d buried under a mountain of divorce papers.
Christy is sitting at the same table, in the now otherwise empty dining room, scrolling on her phone. She looks up as I approach her. “I thought I’d have to track you down.”
“Let’s do this so we can be done with it,” I tell her.
“All right.” She stands and smooths out the imaginary wrinkles in her perfectly pressed black pants.
I follow her out of the dining room and toward the lobby, but when she turns to go up the staircase rather than out the front, I want to argue.
I decide to keep my mouth shut, though. The quicker I can get this over with, the better.
And at least this way I won’t be confined in the small space of a car with her to go somewhere else.
When she stops to unlock her guest room, I glance across the hall.
Riley’s room is right there, only one door over.
It weirds me out to think that when Riley was holding me together in her arms last night, Christy was this close by.
Like my ex’s poison might have seeped right under the doors and infected us while we were sleeping.
Christy gestures me inside first. Then she shuts the door behind us in a perfectly normal fashion, but I jolt as if she’s slammed it. She laughs wryly. “Relax. I’m not going to bite you. Unless you want me to.”
“Enough,” I say. “I’m not joking around with you. You wanted to talk, I’m here. So go ahead and say whatever it is you want to say.”