dash

“You’re sure?” she asks, her eyebrows quirking in the middle slightly, showing her concern. “There’s no possibility of us getting there tonight?”

“I’m afraid not, ma’am. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience,” the agent offers. “However, be assured that we’re doing all we can. You’ll both be on the first flight in the morning, provided the weather has cleared.”

“Okay,” she sighs, taking the newly printed boarding passes from her. “And the earliest flight you have is ten?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she nods apologetically.

“That’s more than ten hours from now,” she huffs. “And we’re three hours from home.”

“I’m so sorry,” she offers again. “We’re partnered with a lovely hotel that offers a shuttle service. I’m sure they’d be able to accommodate you between now and your departure. Would you like me to get you the contact information?”

“Sure,” she sighs, noticeably deflating before looking up at me. “Can you please get the information? I need to call my mom, let her know we won’t be there tonight.”

“Yeah,” I nod, raking my palm over my face as the ticket agent pulls up the appropriate information and writes it down.

I shoot a quick text to Mason, letting him know what’s going on and glance down when I see his answering text.

That sucks, bro. Evie okay?

I answer him, ensuring her safety since I know that’s what he’s really asking me and a minute later, I get another text.

Alright, just do me a favor and keep an eye on her. She’s been acting weird as fuck since she got home. I’ll owe you one.

“You and your fuckin’ favors,” I whisper under my breath, shaking my head as I type in my reply, promising to call him if anything comes up.

He didn’t have to ask me. Regardless of our history, I’d never let anything happen to Evie. He knew that, just like I knew what his text would say before I opened it.

Mason’s always been a little crazy when it came to Evie.

“If you call this number, you can book a room and then take the shuttle at the main entrance,” she starts, pulling my attention away from my phone. “The shuttle runs no less than once per hour, so they can get you back here.”

“Thanks,” I say, offering her a small smile and moving toward Evie, tapping her on the elbow and gesturing toward the exit, waiting for her to follow.

Pulling my phone out, I dial the number the agent gave me and wait through the automated prompts until a real person picks up.

“Thank you for calling Hyatt Place, Dallas-Fort Worth International West,” he starts. “My name is Roderick. How can I accommodate you?”

“Yeah, I need to book two single rooms for tonight.”

“For tonight?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” he says, making me stop in my tracks. “Due to recent flight delays, we’re nearly full. I think we’ve only got one single room left,” he apologizes. “We do have an executive suite,” he offers, the loud tapping of his keyboard over the line stopping after a moment. “That room is two-hundred and eighty-two dollars, plus tax. Would you like me to reserve this for you?”

“Fuck,” I sigh, glancing over at Evie, biting the inside of my cheek in frustration. “How much is it for the single?”

“Let me check,” he says, quickly typing once more. “One nineteen.”

“No doubles, either?”

“No, Sir. I’m sorry, we have one single left available at that price.”

I glance over at Evie once more, taking in the way she chews on her lip in worry. I know I could shell out the extra for the suite, but that’s a big chunk of cash for only a few hours. It doesn’t matter, though. Between that and the unnecessary conversation I’d just had with Mason, I know my hands are tied.

Son of a bitch…

“Okay, we’ll take the suite,” I relent, pulling my credit card as I listen to him type quickly.

A moment later, he returns with a sigh of regret.

“Sir, I’m sorry, the suite is no longer available,” he explains. “It seems like someone else just booked that room.”

“Okay,” I cut him off, biting my lip. “We’ll take whatever you’ve got.”

“Of course,” he says, rambling off my confirmation. “Will that be all?”

“Does your hotel have a bar or room service?”

“Yes, sir. We have both.”

“Perfect,” I sigh as I end the call and face Evie. “I’m gonna need them.”

***

“We have to share a room?” she asks, her eyes widening with surprise. “Are you kidding me?”

“That’s all they had left,” I tell her as we leave the service desk, room key in hand.

“Maybe there’s another hotel…”

“There probably is in town, but do you really want to risk missing our flight?” I reason as we make our way down the hallway, searching for the room number scrawled onto the small paper we’d been given with our keys. “Come on. We’ll figure it out.”

“Okay,” she says, following me in silence.

A few minutes later, both of us are scowling when I push the door open.

“Man, they weren’t lyin’ when they said it was a single room,” she says, pulling her bag in behind me, taking in the large bed in the center of the small space.

“Whatever,” I shrug, pushing the door shut behind us. “I’ll sleep on the floor if it’s that big a deal.”

“You paid for the room, Dash,” she says, her voice low as she shakes her head. “I can sleep on the floor.”

“No, you won’t. Even if I thought you wouldn’t keep me up bitching half the night, your brother would kick my ass. Besides, I was raised better than to let a girl sleep on the floor,” I disagree with a smirk. “Even if that girl is you.”

“Gee, thanks,” she rolls her eyes. “I’m getting in the shower. I feel disgusting.”

“Alright,” I say, tossing my bag in the corner. “I’m gonna go find the bar. Your key is on the dresser.”

“Now?” she asks, stopping quickly and glancing over her shoulder. “You’re leaving me here? Alone?”

“Yeah,” I shrug, slowing my steps to face her. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” she lies, scuffing her foot against the grain of the carpet as she wraps her arms around herself.

“What? Are you scared?” I ask, laughing when she gives me a pitiful look.

“Don’t laugh at me!” she swats at me, her features offended. “How often do you hear about good things happening in airport hotel rooms?”

“More often than you’d think,” I laugh suggestively, making her swat at me again. “Okay, well what do you want me to do? Sit on the toilet while you take a shower?”

“No.”

“Well?”

“Can you just wait a second?” she huffs. “I’ll just… I can just come with you. Let me just change at least.”

“Fine,” I sigh, setting my keys down. “Hurry up.”

“I will!” she snips. “Stop freakin’ rushing me!”

“Well, hurry the hell up. I want a drink.”

“What are you, an alcoholic?” she yells from the bathroom. “You just drank at the airport!”

“You’re not my mother!” I call back. “Hurry the fuck up or I’m gonna leave you in here to get hacked up by a prostitute.”

“That’s not funny!” she says as she makes her way back out, adjusting her top and ignoring my laughter. “Dash, I’m serious! I saw a thing on the news like two months ago where that actually happened!”

“And let me guess. It was in room two-twenty-two of the Hyatt at the Dallas airport?” I smirk, watching her deadpan. “What if it happened right where you’re standing?” I lower my voice to a menacing whisper. “What if the killer is still in the bathroom?”

“Shut the fuck up!” she hisses, glancing over her shoulder when she thinks I’m not looking. “Fine, I’m ready.”

“Alright, come on.”

We make our way downstairs, both of us relieved when we find the hotel bar is still open for another hour. Surprising us both, we share pleasant conversation, sticking to safe subjects like her family, the trip and the seemingly watered down drinks we’re paying double for. When it’s last call, we both have a buzz, her cheeks reddening as a result of the three amaretto and cranberry’s she’d drank.

While she’s in the shower, I call room service for a snack and drinks to last the rest of the night. I’m setting it on the dresser when she comes out, her tight pajamas still clinging to her damp skin.

“All done,” she says quietly. “I left the shampoo and stuff on the edge of the tub if you need it.”

“Okay, thanks,” I nod, diverting my eyes from her chest. “Beer’s there if you want one.”

“I probably shouldn’t drink anymore. I’m a bit of a light-weight.”

“Whatever. There’s a couple waters in the fridge, too,” I shrug as I lock the door and move toward the bathroom. “Your phone was going batshit while you were in there.”

“Okay.”

I make my way into the bathroom, the steam from the shower fogging everything up and my current state not helping much. I turn the hot water on, pulling my clothes off and stepping in under the steaming spray. The image of Evie’s nipples peeking through her thin, cotton t-shirt fill my mind, making me shut them tight. The thought of her cheeks red with the taste of liquor on her lips has me wondering what shape her mouth takes when she comes.

“Fuck… you gotta stop, dude,” I whisper, chastising myself as I glance down at my cock which is getting harder with every passing second. “Even if she wasn’t your mortal enemy, she’s Mason’s sister. You can’t fuck her. You don’t want to anyway. It’s just the booze tellin’ you lies, bro.”

I focus on the feel of the hot water on my skin, stroking myself empty in a hurry so I can get back and go to sleep.

On the floor, thanks to her diva bullshit.

I finally get it together and step out, the effect of the liquor still taking hold but feeling altogether better about my chances of falling asleep quickly.

When I step out a few minutes later, my sweats hung low around my waist, I’m not prepared for what I find.