Jamie: You left me twelve hours ago, B. As you should have.
His texting fingers were working better, not that it mattered at this point.
Sleepy Jean: What room are you in?
He could tell her. He could explain that her name was actually on the reservation, but what good would that do now? And how many points would he earn by letting her see him like this? Even he didn’t want to look himself in the eye.
He lay back down, closing his eyes just for a minute. He’d think this through, weigh the pros and cons, and if he didn’t find enough reasons not to tell her his room number, then he would.
But a pint of Jack on an empty stomach meant two things. One: Jamie passed out for an hour. And two: for the first time in at least five years, he hurled.
It only took seconds for his stomach to empty itself of its sole contents, the whiskey. Fairly sober and head pounding, he cleaned himself up and dressed in a T-shirt and flannel pants before glancing at the phone he’d unwittingly tossed to the floor on his flight to the porcelain god.
Sleepy Jean: What room are you in?
The text was time stamped over an hour ago, and he’d never responded. And Brynn, well, it looked like she’d given up. He figured she’d reached her statute of limitations for giving him another chance, and how could he blame her?
He set his alarm and crawled into bed. He’d looked forward to tomorrow for two weeks. And when Brynn agreed to go with him on this trip, he allowed himself to hope. Now all he wanted was to get through the next day and get his ass on the road back to Chicago.
…
Brynn headed down to the lobby and grimaced when she saw Victoria behind the front desk again. Did the woman not sleep?
Serenity now, she thought to herself. She approached the desk and cleared her throat, forcing Victoria to look up from whatever it was she was doing—probably intentionally ignoring the woman who wronged the gorgeous, rugged man the night before.
“My travel plans have changed, and I’m going to need to check out a day early.”
Brynn slid her hotel room key across the counter to Victoria, who pursed her lips as she stared at it.
“There is a fifty dollar surcharge for canceling less than twenty-four hours in advance.”
Brynn let out a long breath. “Then charge me,” she said.
Victoria said nothing else as her fingertips started clicking and clacking the keyboard, but then the woman’s eyes widened.
“What?” Brynn asked. “Is it a hundred dollar surcharge? I don’t care, okay? Just check me out and find someone to call me a cab to the airport. I’ll spend the rest of my savings on a same-day flight to Chicago.”
Victoria’s whole countenance changed. “Miss, I…uh…I’m terribly sorry. It seems there has been a mistake. When I typed in your name, two reservations showed up.”
Great. Now this woman wanted to charge her for two rooms?
“I don’t know what kind of racket you’re running here, lady…” She could pull off racket, right? “…but I am not paying for two rooms.”
Victoria shook her head, and her cheeks flushed. Brynn realized the woman was panicked.
“When you asked for his room number last night, I should have checked his reservation, just to be sure. But he was…he had that tortured-lover look going for him. Plus the almost beard and the baseball hat—so Midwestern…”
Brynn’s breathing grew shallow as she started to put the pieces together, but she needed Victoria to confirm it.
“Can you get over your fantasy for a second and say what you’re trying to tell me?” Brynn’s voice shocked even her—strong and demanding, because, dammit, this was her tortured lover with the beard and baseball hat.
“Your name is on his reservation,” Victoria finally blurted.
Brynn swallowed and cleared her throat again, this time not to get Victoria’s attention but to make sure she had voice enough to speak. When Jamie hadn’t texted her back last night, she’d assumed that was his final response to whatever it was they were still negotiating. But maybe he was drunker than she thought. Maybe he’d just forgotten. Maybe…she wanted to scream. Because maybe it was time for them to stop being fools and make this right.
“Did he add me to the reservation on arrival?”
Victoria shook her head. “This reservation was made two weeks ago, in both your names.”
Brynn’s throat went dry, and she choked back what could have been a laugh or a sob.
James T. Kirk, you always intended on us ending up here together!
She scurried around to the side of the desk and wheeled her suitcase behind it. Victoria flinched, and Brynn rolled her eyes.