20. Malcolm
Malcolm
“ W ake up, sleepy head, we're here.” I coo into his ear as I gently shake his arm.
Bradley ended up sleeping the entire way here.
The lack of conversation left my thoughts untamed and they were all over the place.
From stressing over the fact that Jefferson read my message but didn’t respond, all the way to how I was going to come out to my family.
Do I save myself some heartache and tell the kids and my parents at the same time?
Rip the bandaid completely off and let the chips fall where they may?
Or confront them one at a time? Both options have me sick to my stomach.
“Shit, did I sleep the entire way?” Bradley stretches his arms as best he can over his head, letting them fall back behind the headrest. His shirt rises, showing off his six pack abs and the trail of dirty blond hair disappearing beneath his jeans.
“You did. Fucking snored the entire way here.” I joke with him.
“I don’t snore.” He claps back at me, his hand going to his chest like he’s appalled that I even dare suggest that he does.
“Nah, not that much, but you do a little. It’s cute.” I reach up, brushing a loose lash from his cheekbone, my fingers tingling as I touch his skin. Did he feel the same sensation as me? I can’t tell. Jerking my hand back quickly I clear my throat. “Shall we head inside and get our room?”
“Sounds good,” he says.
We each open our doors, stepping out into the warm air.
It’s stifling. Getting our bags from the car, we head inside the hotel.
I chose a nice one, but not the nicest. Bradley seems like a down to earth kind of guy, and I don’t think the penthouse in the million dollar highrise hotel in town would be the way to impress him.
Not that I need to. This is a work engagement, and he is being paid well for his time.
“So, you ready? Step one in our master plan to win back your boyfriend?” he asks, bumping his shoulder into me.
“I am. Or at least I better be, since I’m about to check us into one room.”
Then it hits me, what the guy at the front desk is going to see. Bradley and I aren’t holding hands. We’re not giving off couple energy. For all he knows, I’m some stressed-out dad dragging my college-age son on a bonding weekend because therapy was too expensive.
“Unless he thinks you’re my son,” I mutter.
Bradley snorts. “Oh God, yeah. I can see it now. He’s probably back there trying to decide if we’re here for a grief retreat or one of those weird trust-building seminars.”
“Or worse. Maybe he thinks I’m your sugar daddy.”
He gasps, hand to chest. “As if I would ever let you dress like that if you were.”
We step inside the hotel, the cool air hitting us head on, a welcome relief to the scorching heat outside.
“I’m going to step over to the side if that’s okay. I need to answer a couple of my messages that came in while I was asleep. So you’ll get a reprieve from acting like an overzealous lover at check in.” He stops mid sentence before winking at me with a devilish intent. “This time.”
I just shake my head at him, not sure how to answer. Honestly, while I’d love to go ahead and get a head start on becoming comfortable with open affection, I’m glad he’s not pushing it just yet.
“Hello sir. How can I help you?” the older man with graying hair and a receding hairline asks.
“Checking in. Reservation is under Malcolm Knight.” I go ahead and hand out the card I booked the reservation under.
“Thank you,” he says as he takes the card from me and runs it through the scanner. “Ah yes, I have you here. King size room with a city view.”
“King size? There’s two beds, right?” I just want to make sure I’m hearing him correctly. I don’t remember seeing a room with two king size beds when I booked the hotel.
“No sir, the reservation is for one bed. King size. For two nights,” he states matter-of-factly, and if I wasn’t a cool and collected person, I’d be reaching across the counter and grabbing him by the shirt.
“There must be some mistake. I need two beds. Can you move us to a room that has that?” Then just to prove I’m a bigger person, I add, “Please.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but we are hosting a convention this weekend and all our rooms are booked. It’s this or you will need to go to another hotel.” He stands there holding my card up in the air, lips pursed, face scowling.
I turn, looking over to where Bradley’s standing, his head turned down as his fingers tap at the screen on his phone. Would he care? We’ve kissed. Would it be such a big deal to sleep in the same bed?
“Sir?” The man clears his throat waiting for my response. “Do you need to step to the side to think about it?”
Fuck it. Bradley’s a good guy; he'll understand the mix up and have a good laugh about it.
“I’ll take it.”
“Very good, sir.”
The man, Sampson according to his name tag, begins the check-in process, handing my card and room key to me once he’s done. He says some other things, but I tune them out as I feel Bradley stepping up beside me, his arm resting on the counter as he brushes his shoulder against mine.
“We good, baby?” he asks, and I can feel my face heating up. When I glance at Sampson, he’s not acting shocked in any way. It’s as if this is a common occurrence. Which, I’m sure it is. Just not for me.
“Yeah.” My voice comes out in a high-pitched squeak and Bradley laughs. “Ready?”
We both turn and head to the elevator and I know I need to tell him the room situation. I reach out, pushing the button, rocking back and forth on my heels.
“Umm.” Shit, what do I say? Hey, we’re going to be shacking up in the same bed. Maybe I should’ve asked him if he wanted to go to another hotel first before paying for the room.
“What?” he asks as the elevator doors slide open and we step inside. Another couple joins us, and I step back against the wall, easing my way into the corner. I can’t tell him, not with other people in here.
“Malcolm, what floor?” he asks.
“Oh, ten.” The man in front of me reaches forward, pressing the button. The metal box gives a gentle sway as it begins its upward movement. As the polished metal walls reflect our images staring back at us, up we go, the floor numbers flickering above as we do.
The elevator slows, the upward momentum easing into a smooth glide.
When the motor winds down, a light jolt and bounce announces our arrival at the third floor.
The panel above the door pings and the number glows.
With a faint click, the doors begin to part, and the couple steps off, not even taking a second look back at us, as the doors close again.
“Okay, we’re alone and you’ve been quiet. What’s wrong?” Bradley questions.
I grip the handle of my suitcase tighter. My palms sweaty and my heart racing, afraid of how he’s going to react.
“Somehow, the reservation got fucked, or I screwed up.”
“And?” He waves his hand, ushering me to get to the point. I’m normally direct, and I don’t know why he flusters me so.
“There’s only one bed,” I rush out.
Bradley just stands there staring at me, no expression on his face.
The elevator comes to an abrupt stop and dings just before the door opens.
We both stand there a second, frozen, before he steps off the elevator, placing his hand over the metal, keeping the doors open.
“That’s what has you worried? Who cares? ”
I don’t say anything more, just step off beside him as the door closes behind me. We’re in room ten twenty-three. Taking a glance at the directions on the wall, I turn to the right, Bradley in step beside me as we head to the room.
While Bradley’s dressing in the bathroom, I sit down on the edge of the bed and check my phone again. When I see no reply from Jefferson, my hope that he just needed more time dispels. Just his tiny face at the bottom showing that he’s read the message.
Fuck me, am I really about to go out with Bradley and act like a couple who’s dating for everyone to see and judge?
“Stop it,” he blurts, rushing across the room and sitting down on the bed beside me. I go to open my mouth, but he isn’t having it. “Don’t even try to spin some lie. You’re getting into your head and freaking yourself out.”
“How did you know?” I whisper.
“Psychic,” he laughs. “No, I can see it on your face. Not to mention, I know you’ve been stressing about it.” He reaches over, taking my hand in his, angling his body toward me as he places his other hand over our clasped ones.
I can’t deny it because it’s true. My stomach is tangled up in knots, and I feel like I’m about to throw up. All I can think is, I can’t do this. Jefferson would be better off with someone else who can be the man he needs and wants.
“Everything is going to be fine. We’re far from home and no one knows us here.
The likelihood of us running into someone you know is few and far between.
” He squeezes my hand and I shift my head so I can look at him.
“Nothing is going to happen. No one is going to care that you’re out on a date with a man.
You’re building this up to more than it is. ”
“I know and I get that, but the fear of running into someone before I even have a chance to tell my family is what really bothers me.”
“Then if it happens, fate is telling you something.”
“What's that?” I ask.
He gives me a stern look. “That you’re procrastinating. Now it’s supposed to be you giving me comfort and guidance, being the more mature man.” Bradley winks. “But you’re getting all the pep talk from the young stud. I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”
“Thank you.” I tell him. “So the restaurant is about two blocks from here and around the corner from it is a park. I was thinking we could walk there and then maybe check out the park after.”
“I love that idea.”
He lets go of my hand and stands up, stepping over to the dresser, picking up his phone and slipping it into his pocket.
“Ready?” he asks, turning back to me.
I take one final look at my phone. Okay Jefferson, this is for you. For us. Just please don’t give up on me yet.