I turn to face Heidi, whispering under my breath, “We’ll see.”
But, in the end, Wyatt is right. Heidi feels like she’s screwed up my night enough, so she doesn’t want to ruin what I had planned. Without so much as an eye roll, she quickly agrees to sleep on the extra queen bed in Cal’s room.
Wyatt and I go with her to grab her bags...well, bag because that’s all that’s left of her designer suitcases in our room. Most of my luggage is still there, and I pack my remaining belongings quickly. When Wyatt excuses himself to return to his suite, taking my stuff with him, I walk with Heidi to Cal’s room on the sixth floor.
On the third knock, Cal flings open the door, wearing nothing but a towel. A toothbrush is in his mouth, and his black hair is clinging to his damp shoulders. Leaning against the door frame, he gives Heidi a head to toe once-over. While under his scrutiny, I feel her fidget beside me.
Through a mouthful of toothpaste, he says, “Your mascara looks like shit.”
And here we go.
Heidi sneers. “I’m only staying with you because I love Kylie, limp dick.” She shoves past him, snapping the towel away from his waist in the process.
I’ve been on the road with the guys so much that there’s nothing I haven’t seen, but I still cover my eyes, feeling heat creep up my neck.
He chokes on the toothpaste and garbles something.
I’m laughing as I back away from the door. After the night I’ve had, it feels good to laugh. “Good night, y’all.”
Cal is still coughing when I begin to head down the hallway, but before I hear his door close, he says in a clear enough voice, “Bet you’re not going to try your small-dick-phone-sex humiliation shit on me now.”
***
For the next forty-five minutes, I sit in the hotel’s business center, canceling all my credit and debit cards. It’s a pain in the ass because it’s so late, but I finally get it done and order replacements to be delivered to my apartment in L.A.
By the time I’m ready to go upstairs to Wyatt’s room, I’m so exhausted that I practically drag myself across the lobby, and I lean against the wall of the elevator as I ride up to the fifth floor.
The door to Wyatt’s room is propped open with the hotel’s binder that’s filled with information about local restaurants and the cable channel lineup. I pick it up as I go inside, and then I lock the dead bolt and throw the binder on the chair by the door. I follow the hum of the pipes into the bathroom, walking into a haze of fog from the steam.
Wyatt pokes his head out from behind the shower curtain while he’s scrubbing shampoo into his scalp. “You. Naked. In the shower. Now.”
“You. Caveman. Go screw yourself.” I shed my clothes anyway and kick them under the sink. I take his hand and carefully step into the shower. I recoil at how hot the water is, but he pulls me to him, shielding my body from the stream, as he adjusts the temperature.
“It took you fucking forever.” He lathers soap over my breasts, testing the weight of each, as his thumbs trace around my nipples. His hands move to my belly button, and when he glides a soapy finger around it, I shiver. “Thought you forgot about me.”
He’s echoing my sentiments from earlier tonight, and I smile slightly. “No, that’s impossible. I had to cancel my cards linked to Lucas’s accounts before someone steals all his money, and he decides to strangle me.”
“He’s too busy with Red to notice anything, except for her pus—”
I flare my palms down his slick abs and his toned V to grab his cock. This must catch him off-guard because his lips part. “I don’t want to hear things like that about my brother.”
Wyatt laughs but then asks in a serious voice, “Did you get everything handled?”
“That idiot stole my ID, too.”
He bends his head, so he can run his tongue around my lips. “You know what has to happen, Kylie,” he says. I start to move my fingers away from him, but he closes them back around his length. “It’s not like Lucas is expecting you back anytime soon—who knows how long he’ll be in Nashville. So ... you know that you’re coming with me tomorrow, don’t you?”
Yes, I know. I’ve known that’s how things would go down the second Officer Townsend mentioned my credit cards, and I realized there was no way I could board my flight tomorrow. I study Wyatt’s shit-eating grin. “You planned this, didn’t you?”
“For some motherfucker to screw you over? No. But for you to come with me? Yes. That was my plan all along.”
“And the fact that someone broke into my hotel room makes it easier for you.”
He pins me against the shower wall, hitching my leg around his waist, and I let go of his erection, so I can grip his tattooed shoulders for support. Water is beating down on my face, but I don’t blink as I wait for him to answer.
“Did you really think I’d give you up so easily, beautiful? Did you think I’d let you go without reminding you why you fucking fell in the first place?”
I swallow hard and nod.
Before he lowers his mouth to mine, he shakes his head in disappointment as he murmurs, “Then, you must not know a goddamn thing about me.”
Chapter Six
Generally speaking, I hate the way the insides of rental cars smell. I don’t know anyone who gets excited about the stale musk scent of dusty vacuum cleaner and Windex. But when I open the Suburban’s passenger door early the next afternoon, I pause. And I inhale. This particular vehicle smells like Wyatt’s cologne, Jean Paul Gaultier’s Le Male. I bend and put my nose closer to the seat. This time, I breathe in the scent as deeply as my lungs will allow. He must have spritzed some all over the leather when he was loading our bags.
A shiver courses down my spine.
“Are you...” Heidi’s voice coming up behind me startles me, and I jolt up to see her and Cal walking up to the Suburban together. As I shuffle away from the car, he gets inside, moving all the way to the back row, but Heidi doesn’t budge. She raises her thinly arched eyebrows and slips her hands into the front pockets of her floral-print skinny jeans. “Holy shit, Kylie, you’re sniffing the seat.”
“No, I—”
But she pokes her head into the car and breathes in. “Ooh, that does smell good. Wonder what you’re thinking about right now?” She climbs into the Suburban through the back door and plops down in the middle seat, folding her skinny arms across her chest. Cal snorts from the row behind her, and even though her eyes narrow dangerously, she ignores him. “This will be fun,” she says to me, a little too cheerfully.
Instead of holding back the nervous laugh building in my chest, I let it out as I slide my sunglasses over my face. There’s nowhere near enough sunshine today to need the oversized aviators, but they’ll help me sleep on the ride. At least, that’s the plan.
“I sure as hell hope this’ll be good,” I say.
“There’ll be music. What’s not fun about music?” Heidi asks.
Cal says something to her from the backseat, and though I’m not a hundred percent positive, I’m pretty sure he said, “And the dicks attached to the guys who play it.”
Whatever it is was, it earns a hissed, “Fuck you,” and the bird from Heidi.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I rub the back of my neck. I’m already dreading the fact that I’ll be forced to listen to Heidi and Cal’s back-and-forth until the end of the week, which is three days from now.
When I spoke to Heidi about my plans to travel along with Wyatt and Cal this morning, she promptly volunteered herself for the trip. I was quick to point out how unnecessary it is for her to spend her free time with me on the road, and of course, she was quick to argue, claiming that not tagging along isn’t even an option.
“You don’t have to do that, babe. I don’t have a choice, but you do,” I tell her. “Catch your flight and get back to sexing up drunk guys.”
She responds by ripping her itinerary into tiny pieces and dropping them into my hand. “You’re stuck with me now.”