Making Bad Choices Page 5

  “Yeah,” the other one said, giving him a look that was so come hither I had to avert my gaze for fear of bursting out laughing out of sheer awkwardness.

  When they’d walked away, shooting a couple of looks back as they did, I turned a grimace on Culter. “Sorry.”

  “For what?” he asked, eyebrows rising into a genuinely confused expression.

  “For breaking up . . . whatever that was.” I gestured.

  He shrugged. “No problem.” Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a key card in a paper slip. “We lucked out, they had a cancellation.”

  “Nice . . . with how many beds?” I took the key card.

  “One bed. But, it’ll be fine. I’ll just go out and sleep in my truck.”

  I gaped. “What? That sounds like something that might kill you. Why don’t we just head to another hotel?”

  “Trust me, winter break in Flagstaff, we’re lucky to find this one open room.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and I noticed he was wearing a blue, heavy winter coat he hadn’t been before, likely why I hadn’t recognized him at first.

  Grimacing, I held out the key card to him. “You know what, you take the room. I don’t even sleep at night anyway. I’ll just go work out in the gym all night or something. You need to sleep.”

  “Cassie, it’s fine.” He shook his head, looking a little amused. “I sleep out in my truck all the time; I’m not going to die. You go on ahead up and I’ll go grab your stuff and bring it up to you.”

  Now I felt like a real jerk, but I had no urge to go back into that ice hell dimension right outside of the hotel doors.

  I peered up at him. “You sure?”

  “Yeah, it’s completely fine. Head on up.” He turned away.

  On the elevator up, crowded in with a family, I felt a sudden cringe-worthy shame. Crap. I knew what I had to do. I had to put on my big girl panties and tell Culter he could spend the night in the room with me.

  He’d told those girls I was his sister, so we could just share a room like siblings. I didn’t think twice about sharing a room with Charlie or Max when they crashed out on Joshie’s pull-out, and they weren’t even quasi-related to me. Well, obviously Culter wasn’t blood-related to me, but step-related. Anyway, the point was, I needed to let him sleep in the room because if I forced him to sleep in his truck in sub zero temperatures, I’d be the worst kind of selfish.

  The doors to the elevators opened letting out the family, before I rode the rest of the way to the sixth floor alone. My door was only three down from the elevator.

  I ran the key card through, lighting up the strip green. As I entered, I flipped over the top metal lock, preventing the door from closing all the way. After a short hallway, the room opened out to a small space with one double bed in it.

  “Crap,” I whispered. I’d been hoping for at least a pull-out couch or something, I’d have even taken a couch, but the only other furniture in the room was a small table with two chairs.

  A southwestern pattern danced across the bedspread, matching the red-and-yellow geometrical shape paintings that surrounded the room.

  “Hey, Cassie,” Culter called in from the door.

  I turned and took three steps back so I could see him at the door. “Hey.”

  He stood in the open doorway, and as his gaze met mine, he waved. “I’ll leave your suitcase by the door here. This is the right one, yeah?”

  I glanced down to my bulging purple suitcase. “Yeah, that should be good.”

  “Cool, I’ll head out then.” He nodded, stepping back.

  “Wait, Culter,” I said. A strange nervousness ran through me as I crossed over to the door.

  He waited, his bright blue eyes expectantly on mine. When I paused, he asked, “What’s up?”

  I tapped the edge of the door with my palm. “I feel bad. You paid for this room and all . . . do you just want to stay in here with me? One of us could sleep on the floor or whatever.”

  The grin he gave me was a little rueful. “No. Don’t worry about me, I’m completely fine. And I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I’ll come by in the morning; we’ll leave early, if that works for you.”

  “Yeah, I’ll be ready whenever.” I paused. “Thank you. This is really nice of you.”

  “It’s no big thing, Cassie. Have sweet dreams.” Turning, he walked away down the hall. I flipped the metal lock back and closed the door.

  Well, I tried. It’s not like I was going to force him to spend the night with me. Feeling a little off the hook and suddenly alone, I wandered back into the room, unsure of what I wanted to do. Well, I had to eat, but going back down to that ritzy looking restaurant by myself sounded extremely unappealing.

  I ended up ordering room service, and lying out on the bed, flipping through sitcoms. Lately, all my favorite shows had felt considerably less funny. Staying in a luxury hotel like this, I’d usually love to take advantage of the indoor pool and Jacuzzi, or at least take a long bath, but unfortunately all three were prohibited for me with my brand new tattoo, according to José. Eventually, I dressed in my yoga pants and another loose tank top before lying in bed on my tattoo free side and trying to find that elusive unicorn I called Sleep.

  My mind had half-drifted off when a loud ringing came from the nightstand beside the bed. Glancing at the clock, I saw that it was past one a.m. The hotel phone let out yet another piercing wail through the quiet dark room.

  The fuck?

  “Hello?” I answered.

  “Hello,” a girl’s voice said, sounding breathy, “Is this, uh, Culter’s sister?”

  When I paused, she said all in a rush, “Shit, is this the wrong room?” her voice grew muffled, “Culter, what room did you say your sister is in?”

  “He says six twenty-nine,” another girl’s voice said in the background.

  “I am his sister,” I called into the phone.

  But I don’t think she heard me because she said, “That’s the room I called, but it didn’t sound like she was talking to me. Hello?” she said into the receiver.

  “Sorry, yeah, this is Cassie . . . Culter’s sister,” I said.

  “Oh.” She sounded seriously relieved. “Um, would you mind coming to get him? We’re having a hard time getting him up. And, the thing is . . . well, the thing is that my boyfriend is on his way here. He was supposed to have left town yesterday. It will be a really bad thing if your brother is still here in our room when he arrives.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “I’m sorry!” she pretty much whined the apology.

  I exhaled, slowly. “Shit. What room are you guys in?”

  “Two-fifteen,” she said, immediately disconnecting.

  Throwing on the only big sweatshirt I owned, I grabbed up the room key and trudged out my door in just my socks.

  “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I’ll just go sleep in my truck. I’m such a good, real, awesome guy . . .” I muttered to myself scathingly as the elevator lowered. “Stupid, stupid dickwad.”

  The elevator halted, opening to an identical hallway to my floor, except with different numbers. I walked down the softly lit halls, avoiding room service trays. At the door with two-fifteen on it, I knocked softly. When no one answered, I banged on their door.

  Hopefully the chick on the phone didn’t give me the wrong room number.

  A door opened, revealing a very different version of the gorgeous girl from down in the lobby. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun and her makeup had been fully scrubbed off. She’d changed from her fancy dress into sleep shorts and a tank.

  Behind her, the other brunette hastily picked up articles of clothing from around the room. She, too, had changed, though a good part of her makeup still clung to her face.

  “Come on in,” the one closest to me said, gesturing wildly to me. She listed to the side as she talked, falling into the hallway wall.

  The room stank of that low noxious old booze odor usually left behind after a house party.r />
  Culter lay on one of the two double beds in their much bigger room, buck ass naked.

  Drunk girl next to me gestured to him. “Help.”

  “Nope,” I said, turning for the door. I so fucking didn’t need this right now.

  Drunk Girl One grabbed my wrist. “Please, please help us. I will give you a hundred dollars if you just get him out.”

  “Ugh,” My free hand went to my forehead as I turned back. “Fine! But I am not dressing him. If you two get him clothed, I’ll help take him up to my room.”

  “Deal, that’s a deal. Just stay.” The girl let go of my wrist. A second later, one of the girl’s muffled voices said, “Culter, honey, you have to get up now. Your sister is here.”

  “Yeah,” he said, sounding confused. “Yeah, sure.”

  “No, you really, really have to get up. She’s going to take you to your room.”

  “Okay,” he said, again.

  I leaned against the hallway wall, facing away.

  “Okay, uh . . . Cassie, he’s good,” the girl said from behind me a few minutes later.

  Turning, I found Culter sitting on the bed, clothed and rumpled. He leaned forward on himself, looking very much like he might fall right off the bed and onto the floor.

  Blowing out a breath, I walked across the room to where Culter sat. “All right, brother dearest, let’s get you out of here.”

  Culter looked up at my voice, a grin forming on his face while his eyelids drooped over his bright blues. “Hey, there,” he said.

  “Hey, there.” I offered him my hand. “Come on up, we’re getting eighty-sixed.”

  His grin grew even more, giving me a good dose of dimple. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but watching you get that tattoo today was by far the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. By far.”

  My face heated as my gaze came up to the two drunk girls who both had their mouths open and a somewhat disgusted expression on their faces.

  I tried to laugh, but it came out off and way too loud. “I–don’t think he knows who I am . . . he must be super wasted.” Grabbing his arm, I pulled. “All right, we’re going right now.”

  “Yeah,” he said, half rising, half stumbling off the bed. He managed to walk pretty much unassisted to the door, but stumbled into the doorframe.

  “Hey, um, could you give this to him tomorrow?” One of the girls handed me a piece of paper.

  I took it, stuffed it in my pocket, and then held my palm out to the girls. “Hundred bucks?”

  They both looked somewhat startled, but they were the ones who offered the money, and I’d take it to clean up their mess at one-thirty in the morning. Drunk Girl One ran over to her purse and furiously fished through it. “I have eighty-four dollars,” she headed back to me with the small stack of bills. “Is this okay?”

  Exhaling through my nose, I took it. It’s not like I would return Culter to their tender care if they didn’t pay me in full. When we were three steps into the hall, their door clunked closed behind us.

  Culter ran a hand through his hair, teetering a little back and forth in the hallway. “You want me to go to my truck? I’ll go sleep in my truck,” he murmured.

  “No, then you’ll definitely die. Just come up with me.” Going to his right side so he wouldn’t stumble into my tattoo, I linked arms with him and we walked the distance to the elevators.

  “I think I’m going to quit drinking.” Culter said. He leaned against the wall as we waited for the elevator doors to open.

  The doors to the elevator opened and a good-looking guy stepped out, trailing a suitcase behind him. He glanced over at us.

  “Hi,” he said as he passed.

  “Hi,” we each said before taking his elevator. As the cab rose, I turned to Culter and couldn’t help but say, “I think that was drunk girl’s boyfriend.”

  “Who?” Culter asked, leaning forward, his eyes squinting so much they were pretty much closed.

  “The girl from the hotel room,” I pointed at him, “You know.”

  “They have a boyfriend?” His hands ran through his hair. “Fuck.”

  Maybe it was because of how he just said that, or because I was a little delirious, but laughter burst out of me.

  Culter glared, still teetering a bit. “Are you laughing at me, Cassie?”

  “I might be,” I said through another laugh as the elevator doors opened. “Come on.” I held my hand against the door of the elevator, holding it open. When Culter stayed in the elevator, leaning against the back wall, I added, “We should get some sleep or we’ll be useless tomorrow.”

  He didn’t move, but a slow grin spread across his face. “I meant what I said in the room—about watching you get tattooed, hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “That was embarrassing, because you also told those girls that I’m your sister.”

  He shrugged. “Whatever.”

  “Fine,” I said, stepping back out of the elevator door and letting it close. “Goodnight, Culter.”

  Last minute, his arm shot through the gap and the doors spread open again. “Hold your horses, little lady,” he said with some sort of affected drawl.

  In the room, I pulled all the spare blankets and pillows from the closet and made Culter a nest on the floor. He fell onto it, or more dove onto it, and was asleep by the time I’d stowed my eighty four dollars in my wallet.

  Chapter Six

  A starving, stomach acid churning feeling woke me. It was incredibly weird because I’d eaten a huge dinner at ten o’clock the previous night. But like sleep, my hunger had been on the fritz lately.

  There was a weird amount of pressure around me and as my mind slowly arrived into wakefulness, I became aware that someone snored lightly right next to my ear.

  My eyes flew open and I was suddenly fully awake. Craning my neck, I looked down to an arm and leg thrown over me. Peering over my shoulder, I found a very familiar boy right there, spooning me.

  “Holy shit, Culter,” I groaned.

  First, I grabbed his arm and none too gently pushed it off me. Next, I kicked off his leg, which felt like it was weighted down with titanium. As Culter rolled over, I noticed that the boy was still wearing his jacket, but was missing his pants. Thank God he still had his boxers on. And he had at least slept on top of the covers while I was under the covers. I climbed away from him, not caring at all that I was jostling him.

  He didn’t wake, and his snores only grew louder.

  In the hallway to the bathroom, I found his discarded pants. Drunk ass boy wakes up to pee, returns, and climbs into wrong bed. Mystery solved.

  Unfortunately, now I stunk like an all day drive and a boozed out, sexed out boy and I still wasn’t supposed to shower for another twenty-four hours.

  Silver lining: I had eighty-four dollars cash in my wallet. It might be a very measly silver lining, but it was awesome to know that those drunk girls were going to buy me one hell of a breakfast. As I pulled on my sweatshirt, a piece of paper fell out of my pocket.

  Picking it from the floor, I read the message: Hey sexy, call us if you’re ever in Boulder, followed by their phone numbers.

  I set the note on the table, before grabbing a hotel pen off the top of the dresser in the corner. Circling the note from the girls, I wrote a message around it: You might not remember this, but trust me, these girls suck. They wanted me to give you this note, so I am. Anyway, I’ll be down in the restaurant eating breakfast. I signed a big ‘C’, and left the note smack dab in the middle of the table, so he’d find it.

  People packed into the restaurant downstairs. At least in the mornings, those people walked around in nice sweaters and slacks versus fancy ass dresses, making my yoga pants and sweatshirt combo only a little out of place. My tall, middle-aged waitress set a Belgium waffle down in front of me, and then set down my side of extra bacon.

  “Want anything else?” she asked with a wide smile.

  “I think I’m good, but mind if I still keep the menu just in case?” I gri
nned up.

  “No problem,” she said, turning away just as Culter stepped up to my table.

  “Oh—” I reached out to the waitress, “He’ll probably want to order some food in a minute, too.”

  “Do you want anything to drink?”

  “Could I get some coffee, please?” he said, way more coherently than I expected.

  The waitress nodded, patting Culter on the shoulder as he took the seat across from me. “I’ll be right back with that.”

  Culter regarded me cautiously. “Hey, Cassie. Good morning,” he said, though it sounded more like a question.

  After a slight pause, I said, “Good morning.”

  Honestly, I had been planning to tease the shit out of Culter. But seeing him there, looking like he was steadying himself for me to rip into him, I decided to cut him a break.

  If the situation was reversed, I’d appreciate Culter cutting me a break over it. Random drunken hookups weren’t my thing, but if I had hooked up with someone only to have that guy call Culter to pick me up in the middle of the night, I’d be pretty embarrassed come morning. What those girls did to him was damn shitty, in my personal opinion.

  After a short pause, I smiled. “You look way better than I thought you would. Are you impervious to hangovers?” Besides the whites of his eyes being just a little bloodshot, he looked fresh for church, as my mom used to say—even though she never went to church.

  He ran his hand through his wet hair, and a look of relief flashed across his features, but it vanished quickly. “I’m definitely feeling the hangover on the inside. Sorry I ended up in your bed. The last thing I remember is—”

  “Culter, it’s totally fine.” I cut him off because I really, really didn’t need to know the sexcapade’s details. “You like bacon?” Grinning cautiously, I pushed the bacon plate over to him.

  “You sure?” he asked, but the question in his eyes seemed to be a little more than about whether I wanted to share my bacon.

  “It’s yours. My eyes were way bigger than my stomach.” This wasn’t precisely true, as in I’d need to eat to find out, but it convinced him.