Kissed Blind (Hot Pursuit #2)(73)

I got into the backseat of a black SUV, and Vance followed behind me. We drove along for about twenty minutes before I gathered enough courage to speak. “You survived the flight I see.” Yes, these were the profound words I’d settled on to fix everything. He’d probably stepped in deeper puddles.

“Oh, so you’re talking to me now?” Vance looked out his window.

Nope, the soles of his shoes hadn’t gotten wet. “We’re here. Can we forget about what’s happening at home for a while?”

He drew in a breath and exhaled as he threw up his hands. “I don’t even know what’s going on at home. You’ve hardly said five words to me all week.”

“I’m going through a rough patch.”

“A rough patch? All I knew was we had a nice time at my parent’s house, and the next time I saw you, you were a quiet rage machine and you have been all week.”

Maybe I was wrong to have brought this up in a car with an audience. I’m sure the driver was leaning in to hear the colorful conversation about to take place. I sighed. “Never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.” I looked out at a six lane highway and leaned forward to speak to the driver. “How long will it be to the hotel?”

“It depends on traffic, Miss. Not long now, just relax. We’ll be there shortly.”

It wasn’t the answer I was looking for. I needed specifics so I could count the minutes till I was free from the uncomfortable prison I’d shut myself in. I slumped back in my seat and tried to take in the scenery. Unfortunately, it wasn’t much more than industrial areas followed by sketchy areas. I wanted to drop the conversation with Vance anyhow, anyway.

Vance loosened his collar and shook his head. “No you don’t.”

“No I don’t what?” I bit the inside of my cheek and glanced at him out of the side of my eye.

“You don’t get to try to change the topic like that. What’s going on with you? I’m trying to think of what I did or said that was so bad that you wouldn’t even tell me.”

“Well, like I said before, maybe it doesn’t involve you.” I kept the silly ruse going. The conversation would take far longer than the remaining car ride would allow. I should have never brought it up.

He pursed his lips. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

I shut my eyes and exhaled a large breath, puffing out my cheeks. “Gabe and I broke up.”

He leaned his head back against the headrest and groaned. “Ugh, again?”

“Again?” I recoiled. “Thanks for being so supportive.”

“You’ll get back together with him like you always do.” He slouched in his seat and looked back out the window.

“No, I won’t.” I felt like a kid and like my mother had told me to eat my broccoli. “I have all my things from his place. It’s done. Over. Finished.”

He squinted. “Why?”

“We had a fight, a big fight, and that’s that. There’s no going back from this one.” I shrugged. “I won’t inconvenience you with the details.”

He rubbed his face. “It’s just hard. That’s all. It’s not easy watching you constantly get hurt by that guy.”

Little did he know I was the one who’d done the hurting this time. “Well, you won’t have to watch it anymore. So, I’ve had a rough week. I was hoping to forget about life while we’re here.”

“I wish you would have said something rather than treating me the way you have been.”

“Sorry.” I shrugged. “I’m saying something now?”

He rested his back against his door and crossed his arms, mulling something over in his mind. “That’s not it. That’s not all you’ve been upset about. You wouldn’t treat me this way over breaking up with Gabe. There’s more.” He was angry and had every right to be.

“Um, there is…” I began, but the car pulled to a stop.

“We’ve arrived at your destination, The beautiful Hotel Roosevelt,” the driver said. “I’ll get your bags and have them taken to your rooms if you’d like to get checked in.”

I gave Vance a quick smile. “Ah, never mind. I’m tired and hungry, and we just got here. We should head in.”

He grabbed the backpack that had been crammed between his feet and opened his door. “You’re right, but this conversation isn’t over.”

He spoke with such certainty my hands tingled, and my chest tightened. I let out a long, slow breath as I exited the car and stood before a towering white building. The lighted words “Hotel Roosevelt” were propped atop the roof in big, tall letters. The scent of jasmine and orange blossoms combined with a hint of exhaust permeated the air. It was wonderful. It was glamourous. It was elegant and held the charm of old Hollywood.

Vance and I walked inside across a deep toffee colored, basket weave tiled floor, flanked by arched pillared openings toward the check-in desk. We were soon handed our keys and took the elevator up to the top. In the hallway, and in neighboring rooms, Vance and I stood at our doors.

“Get cleaned up. We’ll grab a bite poolside. How’s that sound?” Vance said, sliding his card into the slot. He pushed on the handle and stood in his open doorway.

“Sounds great. I’d like that.”