It was shortly after lunchtime when we left. We headed west across the state of Tennessee. We stuck to rural roads, and rode well into evening, stopping only for gas and bathroom breaks. The temperature had dropped with the sun and I held on to Nathan, not only because I had to, but for warmth. He blocked most of the wind for me. I didn’t know how he tolerated it. I was colder out of pity for him.
About thirty miles outside of Memphis, we stopped at a quiet drab interchange, where a flickering hotel sign promised an available room.
Nathan took one look at me and my neck, and suggested that I wait outside. I had seen the bruises in a rest stop mirror earlier. I knew how bad they looked. Waltzing into a shabby hotel lobby, looking like I did, would only attract attention we were trying to avoid.
Nathan had parked where he could easily see me from the lobby. That meant I had an unobstructed view of him where he stood at the front desk that allowed me to witness the brazen flirting that transpired on the opposite side of the windows.
The twenty-something, perky, fake-blonde working the night shift visibly brightened when she spotted Nathan. I couldn’t hear her, or him, but it was clear from her body language that she was laying it on thick. I shifted into a better location to see Nathan’s face.
My mouth dropped open when I saw the smile on his face. As I watched him skillfully flirt with the cleavage exhibit behind the counter, it became apparent that he was much better with girls than I had thought.
He signed the papers as he talked with the clerk animatedly. He glanced in my direction twice. Once, the girl followed his gaze and locked eyes with me. She looked temporarily disappointed before she resumed her shameless seduction.
I scoffed. She totally saw me. She should have at least had the decency to tone down the flirting. But no, she didn’t tone anything down.
I turned away from the spectacle to pace around the motorcycle before I got too worked up over it. It wasn’t that I cared about the flirting. There was a girl code, I thought, that girls—obviously not this one—knew. You weren’t supposed to flirt with another girl’s guy right in front of her. And this girl should have assumed that Nathan was mine. Even if he wasn’t, he did have a girlfriend. It wasn’t Nathan I was worked up over. It was the principle. Definitely the principle.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Nathan asked as he let the lobby door shut behind him. I was so deep into my thoughts that I hadn’t realized I was glaring at him.
“You shouldn’t do that.” I grimaced. There I go speaking before thinking again.
He picked up his helmet and threw me a sideways glance. “Do what?”
“Flirt with the clerk like that,” I returned quickly before I lost my nerve.
He threw a thumb over his shoulder. “That was flirting?”
I gave him my best are-you-serious face as I picked up my helmet to put it on.
“No, we don’t have to ride. We’re right there,” he said, pointing to a chipped red door not far away.
He kicked the stand on the bike and started pushing it toward our room. I tucked my helmet under my arm and walked beside him.
“You know,” he said after a moment, “she did give me a discount.” I heard the laugh he held back.
I feigned shock. “I wonder why?”
“I wasn’t flirting.” He finally chuckled. “I can’t speak for her.”
“But you went along with it.”
“I told you she gave me a discount. I had to be nice. That’s not the same as flirting.”
“You didn’t question why she would give you a discount?”
He looked ahead with a tight grin on his face. He knew I was right. Finally, he shrugged in defeat.
“Does your girlfriend know how big of a flirt you are with complete strangers?” I was only messing with him now, but even I detected the hint of accusation in my voice.
“I’m not a flirt,” he argued automatically, then blinked and turned his head to me curiously. “Wait a minute. What makes you think I have a girlfriend?”
I stopped in front of our room as he parked the motorcycle in its space, maneuvering it so that it faced the road, in preparation for a hasty get away. Just in case. I hesitated, and watched as he retrieved two pistols from the storage compartment.
Why had I been so sure? Because any guy that looked like him had to have a girlfriend? While true, I wasn’t about to tell him that.
He looked at me expectantly.
“The girl helmet, for one,” I said as I handed it to him. It was a pathetic reason and, from the look he gave me, I knew he didn’t consider that proof at all.
I shrugged. “The girl clothes in the cabin.”
“You mean the cabin that has served as a safe house for both male and female Kala?” He stood next to the bike, arms folded over his chest, and stared at me. He sure was intimidating when he wanted to be.
I cowered, suddenly feeling silly. “So, you don’t…”
“Nope.” He walked toward the door, and said over his shoulder, “girls are too much work.”
He looked at me pointedly, like I was his proof. I opened my mouth, ready to remind him of the moment I had served him his ass on a platter earlier today, and that I couldn’t wait to do it again. My mouth clamped shut, quip forgotten, when he opened the door to our room.
The one king bed filled the room, stood out awkwardly as if under a spotlight. I glanced at Nathan. He was already eyeing me, and shrugged with a hint of bashfulness.
“She assumed you were my girlfriend,” he said quietly.
I knew what that meant. Asking for two beds would have been suspicious. So he hadn’t. My next thought was and yet she still openly flirted with you? That ticked me off, until I remembered that I wasn’t really his girlfriend. I had no claim to him. But if I saw that girl again, she would get one nasty pissed-off-Kris glare.
I acted like sleeping in one bed with Nathan wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t like we hadn’t technically slept together before. We had been a lot closer that freezing night in the sleeping bags than we would be in a king bed. But I had practically hated Nathan then. And now?
I definitely didn’t hate him. And yeah, it kind of was a big deal.