“Relax, I got us some toiletries, too. Someone didn’t let me pack a bag.”
“You had a bag packed. It’s at your place, abandoned on the floor because you bolted.”
Ah, there was that edge again, a little slip of his controlled temper. She had no idea why she kinda liked it.
Because all you’ve wanted since you first walked up to him is to see how out of control you can make him.If she couldn’t do it in bed, her perverse nature demanded she do it while they were clothed.
“You don’t have a toothbrush in there?” He nodded at her messenger bag.
“It’s a go-bag that I kept stashed under my kitchen sink for emergencies, not a toiletry bag.” A burner phone and cash were go-bag priorities. Not how smelly she might get.
“Of course you had a go-bag.”
“Everyone has a go-bag.”
He cracked his neck. “Literally no normal person has a go-bag, Ms. Chaudhary.” Krish held his hand out for the grocery bag, and she gave it to him. He walked around the car.
“If only I was normal,” Sejal said as she got inside. Once he was back in his seat, she asked, “How much further are we driving tonight?”
“We’re not. I have to sleep.”
Oh thank God. She’d snoozed in the car, but she could use a bed. “I thought you wanted to make it to Chicago by tonight.”
“We’re not far from it. Like an hour or so out.”
“Oh.” She glanced around the small town they were in. It looked like it had about one stoplight. She never would have guessed a major city was nearby. “Are we going to stop at a rest area and sleep?”
“So you can flag down a trucker and run away?”
“You know, if you keep giving me good ideas, one day I’m going to act on one of them.” As if she’d get in some random trucker’s vehicle. While she was occasionally reckless, she didn’t have a death wish.
“There’s a hotel around the corner. We’ll go there.”
“A hotel” was a generous description. “Motel” was probably also too generous. The building was run-down, with peeling paint and a damaged sign. There was a bar across the street that bathed the parking lot in neon red, highlighting the weeds growing between the cracks in the asphalt. “We’re staying here?”
“Is it not to your taste?” Krish parked the car.
“I’ve stayed in way worse. But I’m guessing you haven’t, Harvard.”
He paused in taking off his seat belt. “Why would you say that?”
She cast her gaze over him. His haircut wasn’t wildly expensive, but his clothes and shoes weren’t cheap. “You don’t look like someone who stays in any places that are less than three stars.”
“You’d be surprised.” He got out and shut the door.
A tingle of curiosity ran through her, but she shut it down. The less she knew about the man, the better.
The lobby—if the tiny postage stamp–size space could be called that—wasn’t much better than the exterior. The pale twentysomething girl behind the counter didn’t glance up when they walked in. In fact, she didn’t pay attention to them even when they stood right in front of her, not until Krish cleared his throat.
The girl seemed to look through them, a gaze she’d probably had to practice given the clientele that usually came through the place. “How can I help you,” she said in a very unhelpful voice.
“We need a room,” Krish said.
“Two rooms,” Sejal added.
Krish shook his head. “One room. Two beds.”
“One room?” Sejal crossed her arms over her chest. She also edged back, lest he decide to nudge her with his foot like she had done to him over the maps. “Nope.”
