Chapter Fourteen
Jonah
I ignore Vivian and swipe the card to open the door to our room. It’s right next to Dad, Carolynda, and Maisy’s room. I’m sure that was intentional. A deterrent to keep us from fighting? Or close proximity so they can stop us from killing each other. Probably a little of both.
The room is standard hotel-room chic. Neutral colors. Bland prints on the walls. A bathroom off to the side. A dresser with a television above it. And two beds—thank fuck. I can barely tolerate Vivian. Sleeping with him in the same bed? I shudder. No fucking way.
I can’t even picture it. But my mind disagrees with me—Vivian under me. Submitting?—
“Move, Jonah. You’re blocking the way.”
Nope. Not going to happen.
“Sorry, princess.” I scoot over and head for the bed by the window and the air-conditioning vents.
Brushing past me, he throws his bag on the bed. My bed.
“No.” I sling my bag down beside his. “I get the bed by the window.”
“Fuck off.” He tosses my bag to the floor. “I was here first.”
God. We sound like children. But I can’t let this go. “Be reasonable, Vivian. I need this bed.”
He swivels around, his eyes flashing as he jabs his hands on his hips. “Be reasonable? Me? You’ve been a dick this entire trip.”
I throw my hands up. “It’s ninety fucking degrees out, and you’re wearing a hoodie.”
“Sorry that I’m not in shorts, showing my body off to everyone. This hoodie is comfortable,” Vivian says, the words flying out in a rush, as if all his pent-up frustration is now pointed at me. “And I get cold easily.”
“Exactly!”
Bang. Bang. Bang.
We both stare at the wall. Vivian makes an incredulous sound. “Did they just shush us?”
My heart is still pounding from our argument, and I want to continue yelling at him. Swallowing, I say instead, “I think so. At least they didn’t call.”
Vivian chuckles. “Think we can make it through the night without arguing?”
“Not likely.” Mostly because Vivian loves to argue.
My daydream returns at the worst moment. Vivian on his knees, taking my cock. Responding to my every command. I grab my bag to hide my growing problem.
“I get hot, Vivian.” I flush at that. What the hell?
“Not my problem,” he says in a low voice, but it lacks the heat from earlier.
“It is your problem since I’ll be cranking up the air conditioner.”
His body is stiff as he glances from one bed to the other. “Fine.” He doesn’t look at me as he grabs his bag and moves it to the other bed. “This one is closer to the bathroom.”
He disappears into the bathroom, and I flop onto the bed. Now that the fight is over, exhaustion hits. I’m tired. Tired of trying so fucking hard and everything still falling apart. I want to drive home—Mule Creek, not Hopeview—and forget this trip ever happened. Not right this minute, of course. Too tired for that.
The bathroom door opens with a click, but I keep my eyes closed. I need another minute. His spicy scent teases my senses. Did he spritz himself with body spray? I let out a groan. I’m so fucked.
“What?” Vivian asks, sounding slightly offended. I shake my head. His voice is quiet when he says, “I just—” He cuts off abruptly. What was he going to say?
I don’t open my eyes, but I’m listening for every sound. Thezipas he opens his bag. The sounds of him rifling through his things—only, it’s too quick. As if his mind is somewhere else. He makes a frustrated sound. “You don’t have to fix everything, Jonah.”
