I grimace. If he could read minds, I’d know it by now. His question is merely a coincidence. I take a sip of beer to buy myself precious seconds. A deep, dark feeling is snaking its way through my insides and I need to quash it.
“Of course not,” I force out pleasantly. “It’s your body, your choice what you do with it. It’s not like you are my boyfriend or anything.”
There is a flash of something in Mabon’s eyes before he looks sharply away. It looked like hurt. Disappointment, and a sadnessas deep as the ocean. But I must be seeing things. He looked away so quickly, I couldn’t have seen anything at all.
I pick up the fifty and shove it in my pocket. It feels heavy and oily and dirty, but we need it and I’m not stupid enough to throw it away.
I grab Mabon’s hand and pull him to his feet. It is time to get out of here before anything else happens.
“Time to find a hotel,” I tell him.
“Oh goodie!” he exclaims, and he meekly allows me to tow him along behind me.
His delicate hand is soft and slightly colder than mine. It feels wonderful. Far too good.
I bite back my groan. If everything goes to plan, in a few days, I’ll be dropping Mabon off back at Buckingham Palace and never holding his hand again.
My chest tightens painfully, but I ignore it. I need to find a hotel that takes cash.
Chapter twenty-eight
This guy looks so young. He is sitting behind the desk of a budget hotel, so he has to be an adult, even though he doesn’t look it. I guess I’m getting old. And isn’t that a depressing thought.
“How much for a room?” I ask.
He taps on his computer for a moment. “Our walk-up rate is sixty pounds tonight.”
I slide the crisp fifty pound note onto the white plastic coated desk. “How does fifty sound?”
The young man looks at the cash and then at me. He shakes his head in an overly exaggerated manner.
“Dude!” he exclaims. “I don’t own this place. It’s not my decision. I’m just a corporate wage slave.”
I look at him, he looks at me. I don’t think he is being annoying on purpose. I think he genuinely doesn’t have the authority to lower the price. Which is fair enough. Except, that fifty is all the money I have. It’s so frustrating. I have a few thousand in mybank account, but with no card or ID, there is absolutely no way to access it.
Mabon steps up to the desk. The receptionist’s attention flicks to him.
“Do you want nudes?” Mabon asks brightly.
Oh for fuck’s sake. I grab Mabon, pull him to me, and cover his mouth with my hand.
“Sorry about him. He is German,” I babble helplessly as my heart races.
The receptionist grins. “No worries.”
Then he runs a calculating gaze over Mabon. “My mate does Only Fans. He makes a killing. You should think about it, you wouldn’t have to bum in shit holes like this.”
“Thanks,” I say weakly. I think it is time to get out of here and try somewhere else. Not that there seems to be a lot of choices in this small town.
“You almost look fey.”
My blood runs cold. My heart stops beating and my lungs stutter to a stop.
“You’d make a killing.”
I blink. Several times. Mabon squirms in my arms, but I don’t release him.
“Is that a thing?” I hear myself say.
