My Last Resolution(17)

“All US Airways tickets are nontransferable, Miss Weston. Would you like a refund for that portion of the trip?”

“Are you saying that I’m stuck here?”

“I didn’t personally say that but...Given the number of stranded passengers and the fact that you didn’t buy flight protection...” Her voice trails off. “Your return flight to Nashville won’t be affected at all. In fact,” she says, tapping on her keyboard, “I changed it so you won’t have a layover in Atlanta this time. It’s a direct flight now. Would you like a refund for the Boston portion of your trip?”

“No, I would not like a f**king refund. I would like for you to—”

“She’ll take the refund.” Blake covers my mouth with his hand and gives me a look of sympathy.

I bite my tongue, preventing myself from telling him to stay out of this.

“Here you are, Miss Weston.” The agent hands over a check. “I also refunded your first flight in light of the circumstances. I really am sorry for the inconvenience.” She has the decency to look halfway sincere.

“Thanks.” I sigh and let Blake lead me out to his car. There’s not a single f**king snowflake falling from the sky and I’m tempted to run inside and demand to speak to the CEO.

“Are you really that upset about missing your flight?” Blake speeds off onto the highway.

“Of course I’m not upset. I buy flight tickets with no intention of flying all the time.”

“I meant to imply if you were upset about spending more time with me.”

My eyes widen as far as they can go. “Excuse me?”

“You’re more than welcome to stay with me until after the storm passes.”

I burst into laughter. He’s out of his mind.

“Is my hospitality that funny?”

“It is.” I take a deep breath. “No offense, but I don’t really trust you.”

“You could if you wanted to.” He smiles. “Stay with me.”

“No thanks.” I shake my head. “I mean, we were only together for a few hours yesterday and you were assaulting me with your tongue, so I can only imagine what you would attempt to do with even more days.”

“I assaulted you?”

“That’s what I said.”

“I don’t recall you asking me to stop.” He looks over at me. “As a matter of fact, you looked disappointed when I did. And if I was sensing things correctly, I think you wanted me to take things further—a lot further.”

My cheeks redden and I focus my attention on the buildings that are whirring by my window. Staying with Blake for over a week would definitely be the most spontaneous thing I’ve ever done in my life, but I can’t bring myself to admit that out loud.

“Can you take me over there please?” I point at the hotel park that’s up ahead. “I’m just going to get a hotel room.”

“I’m pretty sure they’re sold out already.”

“I’m pretty sure you want me to believe that.”

He laughs and pulls off onto the next exit ramp. Instead of heading straight for the park, he coasts into a Starbucks drive thru.

“I have a feeling that this is going to be a very long and eye-opening day for you,” he says. “Would you like anything to drink?”

“Caramel Frappuccino...” I hold out my credit card, but he doesn’t take it.

“My pleasure.”

After handing me my coffee, he turns to face me. “I won’t attempt to do anything you don’t want to do, Paris. I’m just being nice and trying to save you some money, and I wasn’t joking about needing new company. Stay with me.” He brushes a hand against my cheek.

“Um...” Say yes...Hell f**king yes... “Can we stop at the Marriott first?”

He rolls his eyes and drives over, parking at the mid-point for all the hotels.

“Thank you.” I immediately jump out of the car, but I feel him walking by my side seconds later.

We walk into the first hotel—a midscale type of place with glass elevators and a sparkling lobby, and I notice that everything seems quiet. Empty.

Before I can tell Blake, “Told you so,” I see a sign hanging a few feet above the front desk: “Sorry, We’re Sold Out.”

I sigh and leave, walking next door to another hotel.

Sold out.

Then another.

Sold out.

By the time I reach the eighth one, my patience is wearing thin and the permanent smirk on Blake’s face is driving me insane.

“Shall we go to the next one?” He holds a door open for me. “Or have you given up yet?”

“I’m not giving up...”

“Because you’re scared to stay with me, or because you actually don’t want to give up?”

I pretend as if I didn’t hear that question. I’m sure the loud beating of my heart answered it for me.

The next hotel we enter is relatively small, quaint, and I expect to see a sold out sign on the desk, but there isn’t one. The lobby is relatively bare and the carpets could use a serious cleaning, but it looks good enough.

“Good afternoon and welcome to Eco-Suites.” A man with a scruffy beard appears behind the desk. “How may I help you two?”