His head pulls back like I’ve lost my mind to even ask, and I have no doubt the man would attempt a jog around the block if he was challenged.
“Come on.” I slap the inside of his thigh before standing. “You’re not going to last much longer.
“I’ll last all night long if you need me to.” He coughs when he realizes just how sexual the words sound, quickening his steps to move to the aisle.Chapter 9Flynn
It’s not the movies that exhausted me. I used to watch those same shows with my dad all the time.
Even though I’ve seen them a million times each and the scary parts seem cheesy now compared to more modern movies, I still get a sense of nostalgia watching them.
I’m just… off.
Blaming it on lack of sleep, I don’t even argue when Remington insists on putting the suite in her name. I opt to lounge on the sofa in the lobby and wait, having to be woken up by a tap on the shoulder when she’s finished with check-in. She could’ve easily bolted. Hell, she could’ve done that when she went to the restroom earlier. I’d like to say I have faith she’d stick around, but I glared down at the app Wren had me add to my phone while waiting for her cell phone to track outside of the building. It never did, and she came right back. She could be luring me into a false sense of security or maybe she’s smart enough not to take off on foot in the middle of the night since her car keys are in my pocket. Either way, the night has been predominately uneventful.
“There are two rooms, both with en suite bathrooms, but I’m going to pull the diva card and insist on the one on the west side. I don’t want to wake up at dawn and hotel curtains aren’t always reliable at keeping the sun out.”
“S-fine,” I mumble, my head growing heavier by the second. “Are you going to take off? I’m so fucking tired, Remi. Can we call a truce for one night?”
“I’m pretty tired myself,” she whispers, her eyes locked on the elevator button panel. “I’m not taking off. Feel free to sleep in front of the door if you don’t believe me, though.”
Honestly, I think I’d be able to sleep anywhere at this point, but I just don’t have the energy to open my mouth with that confession.
When we enter the suite, I loathe the thought of her heading in the opposite direction of me. I don’t want her in my bed. Okay, that’s mostly the truth. Her in my bed breeds a million horrible outcomes, but even in my exhaustion, I’m just not ready to be apart from her. If I were more rested, I’d probably lose my shit over how clingy I’m feeling.
“Let’s watch a movie,” I say, dragging my ass toward the sofa in the center of the suite.
“We just watched two movies,” she reminds me, but I plop down on the couch gracelessly.
“A comedy. I don’t want to have nightmares.”
With my eyes in slits, I look up and see her biting that perfect bottom lip of hers, and although I love the sight of it, my body is just too wrung out to react. I pat the sofa right beside me. “Come on. Don’t make me go to bed scared.”
She doesn’t answer, but I breathe a sigh of relief when she sits down on the far end of the sofa, picking up the remote to find something to watch. I don’t know what she chooses because my eyes flutter closed and I’m lost to the world before she can even turn the damn thing on.
“Hey?”
My eyes flutter open to Remington’s face mere inches from my own.
“Are you going to kill me now?” Where the fuck did that come from?
“You’re over here moaning in your sleep.”
“Was I having a sex dream?” Who broke my brain-to-mouth filter?
She tries and fails to hide her smile. “I don’t know, Flynn. Were you?”
I try to reach my arms up to wrap around her waist, but they’re too heavy and the foot of distance between our bodies just seems insurmountable.
“You’re burning up.”
“I’m always hot, baby.” I shoot for a weak smile, but I’m sure it comes out as a cringe instead. What in the hell is wrong with me?
“You have a fever. Do you feel bad?”
“I’m fine,” I assure her, my eyes closing once more.
When I open them a mere second later, I’ve somehow been positioned flat on my back on the sofa. It’s oddly comfortable. This hotel spared no expense on their furniture, that’s for sure.
“The flu,” a stranger says from the other side of the room.
I squint my eyes open, but the light in the room is overly bright and painful.
“Not the flu,” I argue, drawing the other woman’s attention.