“Thankfully, we had the foresight to leave them in our rooms to keep them safe,” he says. “But that also means that we can’t get to them because they’re in our rooms.” He gives her an “aw shucks” type of expression, like he’s just an innocent kid who made a dumb mistake.
“Do you have your IDs on you?” She looks between us.
“They’re in our rooms with our keys,” he says regretfully.
“What rooms are you in?” she asks. “I can check the IDs we have on file, and if they match, I can code new keys for you. You’ll just have to bring your original keys back down after you get to your rooms so I can make sure everything checks out.” She gives us an apologetic look. “It’s policy.”
“Totally understand,” Xave assures her. “Is it cool if I bring down both keys to save my buddy the trip?”
“That’s fine.” She gives Xave a flirty smile. “And it would probably be best if you did it before my shift ends in an hour. That way you don’t have to explain everything again.”
“It’ll be long before that,” he assures her, a slight drawl creeping into his voice.
Her cheeks flush pink, and her eyes flick from her screen to Xave appreciatively every few seconds as she types something into her keyboard.
A strange sour feeling fills my stomach, chasing away the ache of hunger. What the fuck? Is that jealousy? Why the hell am I jealous that Xave is picking up the hotel clerk? It’s not like I’m into her. She’s cute, and I’d definitely notice her at a club, but the last thing I’m thinking about right now is getting my dick wet.
I just want to get something to drink, cram as much food into my face as I can, take a long, hot shower, and crash. What Xave does or doesn’t do is none of my business.
“Room numbers?” she asks.
“Twenty-one-nineteen,” Xave says, then glances at me.
“Seventeen-twenty-two,” I say automatically.
The clerk’s fingers fly over the keys, her long, shiny red nails glinting in the low light as she presumably checks our guest files.
“Well, you definitely look like your IDs.” She shoots Xave another flirty smile. “I’ll just code a couple of keys and get you on your way.”
“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver,” Xave says with an equally flirty smile.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes and lean against the desk as she runs a couple of key cards through the coding machine.
“Here you go, Mr. Greely,” she says, handing Xave one of the cards.
“Please, call me Jon.” He takes it from her with a heated smile.
She stares at him for a few beats, her cheeks flushing an even darker shade of pink, then she shakes her head and shifts her attention to me. “And for you, Mr. Cosgrove.”
I don’t get a flirty smile, but that’s fine. I’m not in the mood for any of this crap right now.
“Thanks.” I take the card, and she immediately swings her gaze back to Xave.
“Remember, I’m off in an hour,” she says to him, her voice laced with innuendo.
“An hour,” he repeats and spins the card over his fingers in a smooth motion like it’s a coin or a pen. “I’ll see you as soon as I can make myself presentable.”
She giggles, then seems to remember that she’s at work and there are people behind us waiting as she schools her features into a neutral smile. “Thank you for choosing Château de Ville, and enjoy your stay.”
“That was easier than I thought it would be,” Xave says as I push the cart toward the elevators.
“Yeah,” I say absently, still trying to shake off the last of whatever the fuck was going on with me at the desk just now. “That could have been a way bigger complication.”
“Thank goodness for small favors,” he agrees.
Luckily there isn’t anyone waiting at the elevators, and one of them opens as soon as Xave pushes the button.
We get on the elevator, and I stare at the mirrored wall as I take in my appearance. Unlike Xave, I look like I’ve been through the wringer. My curls are a tangled mess, and I look paleand drawn. My clothes are mostly fine, other than the patches of dirt dotting them, and of course the most prominent of them are the ones on my knees.
