Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
As the sun was setting and they entered the city limits of Kansas City, Fitz signaled for the exit and navigated Max to the hotel without even once glancing down at his phone.
They stepped out, gathering their bags from the trunk, and Ren couldn’t help but try to tease him open, just a little. “How many times have you done this trip?”
“A few.”
“A few, like three? Or a few like fifteen?”
He smiled like he knew exactly what she was doing and handed over her bag. “I try to come home for most school breaks.”
“I thought home was Spokane?”
His step faltered, but it was quick enough that Ren thought she might’ve imagined it. “It is. I have extended family in Nashville.”
This felt like a jewel he’d set in her palm. Extended family! In another state! “Like cousins, you mean?”
“Something like that.”
Questions lined up single file when he said this, but Ren was immediately distracted the moment they stepped foot into the hotel. It was like walking into a small town. The main building was open from the lobby clear to the top, with a glass elevator visible as it stopped on each floor. The floor of the lobby was cobblestone, with little tables encircling a massive four-tiered fountain in the center. There were flower beds filled with ferns, and lampposts. Above the sound of splashing water, the hotel was noisy. People in suits sat around in groups talking, while families moved through the lobby in smiling clusters. The bar was packed; the restaurant, too, looked full, with a handful of people waiting to be seated.
Ren had to spin in a circle to take it all in. “This would be like living in a shopping mall.”
“You ever been to a shopping mall, Sunshine?”
“I’ve seen them in movies. There was one in Clueless, remember? And they all have fountains and big open atriums.”
Laughing at this, Fitz stepped up to the reception desk, handing over his ID and credit card.
The woman—her name tag read Rita—typed for a few seconds. “I have you in a classic king, on the twelfth floor. Free continental breakfast is down here from six to ni—”
“Sorry,” Fitz cut in gently, using what Ren had begun to recognize as his flirty voice. “I emailed yesterday to request two beds. Is that possible?”
Rita scrolled through her screen. “Ah, yes. I do see that in your reservation notes. So you’d like to add a room?”
Fitz shook his head. “One room is fine, but two beds?”
“The only options we have available are junior suites.” She glanced at him, and then to Ren, where her eyes lingered. Ren reached up, covering a coffee stain on her T-shirt, before moving her hand to her hair, aware of the way her braid had loosened in the car with the windows down. She must be a mess given the way this woman was looking at her. “Would you like me to book you in one of those?”
Fitz looked over at Ren, and then at the woman, straightening. “How much do those run?” Ren noticed how he took a step to the side, closer to her.
Rita typed a few keystrokes. “With tax, five hundred and eighty-six dollars.”
He deflated a little, sighing. “This again.”
“I can get my own room,” she said quietly. She could understand Fitz wanting some distance, even a night alone. He’d been patient with all her questions and enthusiasm, but since they’d left Wall Drug, his mysterious wall had been up again, and guilt throbbed in the back of her skull, a headache forming. “Let’s do it,” she said.
She bent to unzip her backpack, but Fitz stilled her with a hand on her arm. “It’s too much. You still have to get to Atlanta, and then home. Save your money.” Looking back at Rita, he said, “We’ll keep the room with the king.”
Fitz stared at the wall, mute, while they waited for the elevator to reach the lobby.
“I’m sorry,” Ren said into the tense silence. “I owe you so much, and I realize I’m cramping your style.”
“You’re not cramping my style,” he mumbled, unconvincingly.
“If it makes you feel better,” Ren said, “we’ll have plenty of space. I hear king-size beds are very big.”
“That’s not the problem. I know how big they are.”
Oh. Right. “Duh. I bet you have one.”
He didn’t answer, and it meant that the pounding echo—king bed king bed king bed—returned full force inside her cranium. Actually, she decided, she would sleep on the floor. And if he didn’t let her, then too bad. She would insist.
“Maybe I’ll go sleep in Max,” he blurted once they were sealed up in the elevator car.
“What? No! If anyone sleeps in Max, it’s me.”
Fitz shook his head. “You’re not doing that.”
She hated returning to this conversation. It signified all the ways they were going backward; no matter what she suggested, he would say no to anything but her being in the bed, and she would say no to anything but him being in the bed, and they’d be at an impasse.