Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Jonah
I ignore Vivian and swipe the card to open the door to our room. It’s right next to Dad, Carolynda, and Maisy’s room. I’m sure that was intentional. A deterrent to keep us from fighting? Or close proximity so they can stop us from killing each other. Probably a little of both.
The room is standard hotel-room chic. Neutral colors. Bland prints on the walls. A bathroom off to the side. A dresser with a television above it. And two beds—thank fuck. I can barely tolerate Vivian. Sleeping with him in the same bed? I shudder. No fucking way.
I can’t even picture it. But my mind disagrees with me—Vivian under me. Submitting—
“Move, Jonah. You’re blocking the way.”
Nope. Not going to happen.
“Sorry, princess.” I scoot over and head for the bed by the window and the air-conditioning vents.
Brushing past me, he throws his bag on the bed. My bed.
“No.” I sling my bag down beside his. “I get the bed by the window.”
“Fuck off.” He tosses my bag to the floor. “I was here first.”
God. We sound like children. But I can’t let this go. “Be reasonable, Vivian. I need this bed.”
He swivels around, his eyes flashing as he jabs his hands on his hips. “Be reasonable? Me? You’ve been a dick this entire trip.”
I throw my hands up. “It’s ninety fucking degrees out, and you’re wearing a hoodie.”
“Sorry that I’m not in shorts, showing my body off to everyone. This hoodie is comfortable,” Vivian says, the words flying out in a rush, as if all his pent-up frustration is now pointed at me. “And I get cold easily.”
“Exactly!”
Bang. Bang. Bang.
We both stare at the wall. Vivian makes an incredulous sound. “Did they just shush us?”
My heart is still pounding from our argument, and I want to continue yelling at him. Swallowing, I say instead, “I think so. At least they didn’t call.”
Vivian chuckles. “Think we can make it through the night without arguing?”
“Not likely.” Mostly because Vivian loves to argue.
My daydream returns at the worst moment. Vivian on his knees, taking my cock. Responding to my every command. I grab my bag to hide my growing problem.
“I get hot, Vivian.” I flush at that. What the hell?
“Not my problem,” he says in a low voice, but it lacks the heat from earlier.
“It is your problem since I’ll be cranking up the air conditioner.”
His body is stiff as he glances from one bed to the other. “Fine.” He doesn’t look at me as he grabs his bag and moves it to the other bed. “This one is closer to the bathroom.”
He disappears into the bathroom, and I flop onto the bed.
Now that the fight is over, exhaustion hits.
I’m tired. Tired of trying so fucking hard and everything still falling apart.
I want to drive home—Mule Creek, not Hopeview—and forget this trip ever happened.
Not right this minute, of course. Too tired for that.
The bathroom door opens with a click, but I keep my eyes closed. I need another minute. His spicy scent teases my senses. Did he spritz himself with body spray? I let out a groan. I’m so fucked.
“What?” Vivian asks, sounding slightly offended. I shake my head. His voice is quiet when he says, “I just—” He cuts off abruptly. What was he going to say?
I don’t open my eyes, but I’m listening for every sound. The zip as he opens his bag. The sounds of him rifling through his things—only, it’s too quick. As if his mind is somewhere else. He makes a frustrated sound. “You don’t have to fix everything, Jonah.”
Seriously? “Noted, Vivian. Thanks.”
Something smacks me in the face. I sit up and stare at the extra pillow now on my bed.
He crosses his arms and juts out his hip. A smile tugs at his lips.
I slip the pillow behind me and lean back on the bed. “Thanks.”
His eyes widen and then narrow. “That’s my pillow.”
I should be worried by that look. But instead, I’m fully energized. “Yeah? Come get it.”
He sucks in a breath and his eyes darken. Fuck. What am I doing? But then he’s by my bed and he grabs the pillow. My hand shoots out, circling his wrist. His pulse is racing, his breathing fast as our eyes meet. “Drop the pillow, Vivian.”
His hand opens, releasing the pillow. I’m so fucking hard already. But the sound he makes—almost a whimper—has me forgetting why this is a terrible idea.
Do do do, do do do.
I grab my phone from the nightstand, not bothering to check who’s calling. What the fuck am I doing? I’m not sure if I’m more disappointed or relieved. “Hello?”
“Is everything okay?” Dad asks, his voice hesitant as if he’s afraid to even ask.
I rub my forehead. “Everything’s fine, Dad. What’s up?”
“We don’t feel like going out, so we’re ordering pizza. Are you guys good with that?”
“Sounds good to me. Not sure about Vivian. I’ll put you on speaker.” I press the button. “Go ahead.”
Dad repeats himself, and Vivian agrees. After giving our preferences, Dad hangs up, and we’re once again alone.
“I’m freshening up,” Vivian announces. I thought he already did that. But I don’t say a word as he grabs his bag and retreats to the bathroom.
I fall back on my bed with a groan. Talking to Dad helped me calm down. I can stay that way as long as I don’t think about the look in Vivian’s eyes. Or the way he responded to me. Or the fact that he might be naked in the shower—stop it, Jonah.
Jumping up, I pace the room instead. I need to shower. I can smell myself, and it’s not good. But will I have time before the food arrives? Dad wants me to get the pizza from the lobby, so probably not.
And for some reason, Vivian is taking forever. When it’s finally my turn, I wash my face and my pits. And put on more deodorant. Then I stare at myself in the mirror.
Get a grip, Jonah. On your sanity, not your stepbrother.
I laugh at that. This entire trip has been insane.
“You don’t have to fix everything.”
Vivian had sounded concerned, but that couldn’t be right. My brain is obviously exhausted and hearing things that aren’t there.
When the food arrives, we gather in Dad and Carolynda’s room to eat. Maisy is playing with Bell and has to be cajoled into eating. Not me. I’m starving.
As I tear into my food, I catch Vivian watching me. He shakes his head. “Caveman.”
“Princess,” I reply with a mouthful of pizza.
“God, you’re disgusting.”
“So,” Carolynda says over our arguing, “we’re a little off schedule, but not by much. Colorado Springs tomorrow. There’s a Pride parade at ten. Do we want to try and do Pike’s Peak after or skip it?”
“It’ll take us five and a half hours to get to Durango.” The thought of getting off schedule makes my skin itch. “It might be better to skip it.”
“You were really excited about Pike’s Peak, sweetheart. We should go.” Dad gives her a mushy smile.
She kisses his cheek. “It’s a big mountain, George. I’ll still get to see it.”
We don’t really decide on anything, which bothers me more than I care to admit. I had a plan. And that plan went to hell on the first day.
After we eat, Vivian and I head for the door.
“I told you they could do it,” Carolynda says in amusement. “It’s been an entire day, and they haven’t killed each other.”
“Yet.” Dad laughs. “They haven’t killed each other yet.”