homeless. Great plan on my part to escape Little Crooked Creek with no backup and no money.”
“You don’t have any money?” How did she intend to support herself? He’d assumed she had a place to go or they would have had this conversation before now.
Guarded tension hardened her expression. “I’ll be okay.”
“VJ.” She wouldn’t look at him. “You told me at the diner that you’ve been saving every dime. What happened to your money?”
“We have a long way to go. Get back on the freeway and drive.”
“Like hell I will.” This situation had him so angry he was cursing in English. “Answer the question.”
She wrapped her arms around her chest like a shield. “I’m not your responsibility. I’ll figure it out.”
“In the dark? In a strange city? You have a screw loose if you think I’m going to let you fend for yourself. Keep your secrets about the money or don’t. I don’t care. But you’re staying with me until you find other arrangements. Period.”
Mouth tight, he stomped on the clutch, threw the car into gear and turned up the music so she couldn’t argue. And so he couldn’t hear his subconscious laughing at his pathetic effort to sound noble when he’d greedily latched on to this perfect excuse to keep her around.
“I’m not sharing a hotel room with you,” VJ shouted over the music.
With a stab of his finger, he cut off the music. “I have a suite. Two bedrooms. So humor me,” he said, keeping his eyes trained straight ahead. “And separate bathrooms before you start on that.”
Like the insubstantial impediment of a wall mattered, when VJ was on the other side of it, all gorgeous and amazing and alone.
How much of a glutton for punishment was he, really?
Seven
A modest square sign of carved ebony wood marked the entrance to Hotel Dragonfly, visually separating it from the short-circuiting neon signs of every motel in VJ’s neck of the woods. Dallas really was in another realm.
Kris downshifted to turn into the drive and steered around a tour bus splashed with the name of a rap artist even VJ had heard of.
“Don’t worry. He’s one of the quieter ones.” Kris nodded toward the bus resembling a giant bumblebee as he parked.
“I guess you know a lot of famous people.” It wasn’t a surprise, but she’d been enjoying her Ferrari bubble where no one existed except for her and Kris. “Have you stayed here before?”
“Several times. The Dallas Film Festival is where I won my first award and the Studios at Mustang Park are a Mecca for those of us in independent film.” He helped her out of the car, and they walked to the lobby. “I’m going to use the studio for my new film, even though I’ll have a larger budget. Kyla and I are supposed to meet with a couple of other people there on Tuesday.”
That douse of cold water woke her up. She’d known he was driving to Dallas to meet Kyla, but it had always been later. Now it was now. “Is Kyla staying at this hotel, too?”
Lord have mercy, was she that daft? Of course Kyla was staying here. Probably in Kris’s room. Just because they weren’t getting married didn’t mean they weren’t sleeping together. She should have asked more questions a long, long time ago. She should have said no to the offer of a room.
As she weighed the mortification of sharing a hotel suite with the lovers versus another night on the street, he shook his head. “She’s from Dallas. She’s staying with her mom.”
Breath she hadn’t realized was trapped in her lungs hissed out. Kris and Kyla weren’t involved. She’d stake her life on it. Regardless, he wasn’t like that, looking for opportunities to humiliate her, and she was ashamed for even thinking it. He wanted to rescue her. Again. But without expecting anything in return. He was an all-around decent guy with hands skilled enough to make a girl lose her religion. A guy whom she did not have to say goodbye to for at least another night.
It didn’t matter. The
“You don’t have any money?” How did she intend to support herself? He’d assumed she had a place to go or they would have had this conversation before now.
Guarded tension hardened her expression. “I’ll be okay.”
“VJ.” She wouldn’t look at him. “You told me at the diner that you’ve been saving every dime. What happened to your money?”
“We have a long way to go. Get back on the freeway and drive.”
“Like hell I will.” This situation had him so angry he was cursing in English. “Answer the question.”
She wrapped her arms around her chest like a shield. “I’m not your responsibility. I’ll figure it out.”
“In the dark? In a strange city? You have a screw loose if you think I’m going to let you fend for yourself. Keep your secrets about the money or don’t. I don’t care. But you’re staying with me until you find other arrangements. Period.”
Mouth tight, he stomped on the clutch, threw the car into gear and turned up the music so she couldn’t argue. And so he couldn’t hear his subconscious laughing at his pathetic effort to sound noble when he’d greedily latched on to this perfect excuse to keep her around.
“I’m not sharing a hotel room with you,” VJ shouted over the music.
With a stab of his finger, he cut off the music. “I have a suite. Two bedrooms. So humor me,” he said, keeping his eyes trained straight ahead. “And separate bathrooms before you start on that.”
Like the insubstantial impediment of a wall mattered, when VJ was on the other side of it, all gorgeous and amazing and alone.
How much of a glutton for punishment was he, really?
Seven
A modest square sign of carved ebony wood marked the entrance to Hotel Dragonfly, visually separating it from the short-circuiting neon signs of every motel in VJ’s neck of the woods. Dallas really was in another realm.
Kris downshifted to turn into the drive and steered around a tour bus splashed with the name of a rap artist even VJ had heard of.
“Don’t worry. He’s one of the quieter ones.” Kris nodded toward the bus resembling a giant bumblebee as he parked.
“I guess you know a lot of famous people.” It wasn’t a surprise, but she’d been enjoying her Ferrari bubble where no one existed except for her and Kris. “Have you stayed here before?”
“Several times. The Dallas Film Festival is where I won my first award and the Studios at Mustang Park are a Mecca for those of us in independent film.” He helped her out of the car, and they walked to the lobby. “I’m going to use the studio for my new film, even though I’ll have a larger budget. Kyla and I are supposed to meet with a couple of other people there on Tuesday.”
That douse of cold water woke her up. She’d known he was driving to Dallas to meet Kyla, but it had always been later. Now it was now. “Is Kyla staying at this hotel, too?”
Lord have mercy, was she that daft? Of course Kyla was staying here. Probably in Kris’s room. Just because they weren’t getting married didn’t mean they weren’t sleeping together. She should have asked more questions a long, long time ago. She should have said no to the offer of a room.
As she weighed the mortification of sharing a hotel suite with the lovers versus another night on the street, he shook his head. “She’s from Dallas. She’s staying with her mom.”
Breath she hadn’t realized was trapped in her lungs hissed out. Kris and Kyla weren’t involved. She’d stake her life on it. Regardless, he wasn’t like that, looking for opportunities to humiliate her, and she was ashamed for even thinking it. He wanted to rescue her. Again. But without expecting anything in return. He was an all-around decent guy with hands skilled enough to make a girl lose her religion. A guy whom she did not have to say goodbye to for at least another night.
It didn’t matter. The
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