Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
I’m not sure how long I stand there, saying nothing, but it’s long enough that Serge pushes past Blaze and rests a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay, Paige?”
Nope. Not even a little.
“All good in the hood!”
Jesus, I gotta get out of here. I reach down, grab my duffel, and move on to my next—and final—option.
For the record, Camila and Lara are about to relent when I finish my very convincing argument for why they should let me be their fifth roomie for the night. I can tell. Lara’s face is a mask of pity. Camila’s bottom lip is jutting out a little. Of course they’re going to take me in. They love me. They want to help me out, but one of their roommates puts the kibosh on the plan real quick. I barely have a toe nudged in the doorway before she walks up and takes matters into her own hands.
“No. No way. There’s already three too many bodies in this room. I’m about to start killing people off. Find somewhere else to sleep.”
I should be holding a speaker that’s softly playing Green Day’s “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” as I walk aimlessly around the resort for the next hour. I’m like Mary, adrift and alone. No Joseph by my side. Also, for the record, no immaculate conception to contend with.
Where, oh where, will I sleep tonight?!
Eventually, with so much reluctance I can barely finish the last few steps, I find myself outside Cole’s room.
Am I really going to do this? Sleep with the gorgon? I don’t see a way around it. I could stay on the couches in the lobby overnight, but I know management would hate that (and I’m not trying to get fired early). Not to mention, I need someplace to stow my crap. I can’t just carry around this duffel bag everywhere I go.
From across the hall, the guttural, animalistic sounds of tantric lovemaking are clearly audible—Maddox and Desiree have hit an all-new crescendo—just as I raise my fist and knock.
Chapter Seventeen
COLE
I open the door to my hotel room just as Paige pushes her way past me like a whirling dervish.
All I see is the back of her blonde hair as she kicks off her shoes and drops her duffel bag on a chair. I’m still holding the door open in confusion as she starts unloading her clothes into the bottom drawer of the dresser like that’s been the plan from the start.
Without looking up, she states plainly, “Let’s establish some ground rules right now. No talking to me. That’s obvious. No looking at me either. No touching my stuff. No . . .” She pauses her unpacking so she can consider other possibilities. Then she shakes her head. “Hmm, nothing else is coming to mind right now, but if I think of other things, I’ll update the list then. But you should know that all of these aforementioned offenses will be punishable by death.”
“Death, huh?”
No answer.
“What are you doing?” I say, lamely, trying to catch up.
Why is she in my room?
She looks up at the ceiling and speaks with a bone-tired tone. “It’s a long story and I can’t possibly get into all the details, but essentially, Maddox shacked up with Desiree across the hall. Like they are really going at it. Once they’re done with it, that room will need to be heavily sanitized, or potentially just taken out of the rotation altogether. Oh, also, Blaze is in love with someone else. You probably already knew that and were reveling in the fact that he and I would never end up together, but whatever. Moving on. The only friends who could take me in, Lara and Camila, have utterly abandoned me. I can either sleep in here or behind the back dumpsters outside, so . . .” It’s like she’s giving it another moment of thought before she shudders. “You narrowly won out. But only because I’m worried how high the floodwaters might rise. I don’t want to wake up adrift at sea.”
Well, that’s a lot to unpack, and I’m only confident I caught maybe a third of it by the time she finally takes a breath. The important bits stick, though. “Of course you can stay here.”
Though, to be clear, she’s not waiting for my permission. She’s making herself at home in the place already. This is her room now.
“But I can have a word with Desiree. Obviously, she’s not allowed to take over that room and kick you out. It’s unprofessional and inappropriate—”
She shakes her head, fully committing to the martyr bit with a weary tone. “Save it. Who am I to stand in the way of love? People should be happy. Not us, obviously. But other people. Better people.” She finishes unpacking and slams the drawer closed. “Now, no more talking. That was rule number one.”