Page 57 of A Real Goode Time

I shouldn’t drive now either.

She rubbed her face, shook her head. “It won’t be the Ritz, or even Best Western, but it’s somewhere to sleep.”

“Fine by me.” I swallowed, hesitated. “I’ll ask for two beds.”

She didn’t say anything to that suggestion. We just grabbed our bags and headed into the office.

It smelled like cigarettes and burned coffee. The lady behind the counter looked bored as she read a paperback bodice ripper, a small TV in one corner playing one of those vote for your favorite singer reality shows.

“Hi,” she said, in a voice almost as rough as my dad’s. “Room?”

“Yeah, two beds, please.”

She shook her head, lighting a cigarette from the butt of another. “Sorry, only got singles. Not really a double beds kinda place, if you catch my drift.”

“Really?” I asked, frustrated.

She shrugged. “Hey, the next place with any beds at all is another twenty minutes east on I-90. I got a single for seventy-five a night. I got nobody else, so do whatever the hell you want, just don’t trash the place.”

I slid her a hundred dollar bill, got twenty-five back and a key. “Thanks.”

“It’s room three. Not that hard to find. It’s the nicest room. Just had the bathroom redid.”

“Great, thanks.” I gave her what I hoped was a grateful smile, and Torie and I headed out to find room three.

The space between the queen bed and the dresser, which was topped with an old TV, was barely wide enough for me to slide through sideways. The window faced the parking lot, an ancient window AC unit jammed in the bottom. The bathroom, which, true to her word, had recently had a touchup of paint and a new vanity and toilet. The shower, I think, had just been scrubbed until the white subway tiles were something like white again, with a new showerhead.

I stood with my back to the door and slapped my thighs. “Well. No roaches, and I don’t see any used condoms, so…win?”

Torie laughed. “Yeah, win.” She tossed her backpack to the floor and sat on the bed. “So. The elephant in the room—we’re sharing a bed.”

“Yep.”

“It’s hot in here.”

“Yep.” I tried the window AC, and it blew a meager blast of lukewarm air. “This has seen better days, too.”

She shrugged. Smiled. “It’s fine.”

“Totally fine.” I set my bag near hers. Tossed my wallet and phone onto the dresser in front of the TV. “We’re adults. We can share a bed without it being weird.”

“We totally can,” she agreed.

Except neither of us believed that.

At the thought of sharing a bed with Torie, my cock went on high alert, and nothing I thought about or told myself would lessen that.

Problem one.

Problem two, I hated sleeping in jeans. I’d brought a pair of shorts, but that wasn’t going to do much to hide my problem.

Torie, however, was yawning. “I’m honestly too tired to care.” She blinked at me. “We agreed we’re adults, and this doesn’t have to be weird. Right?”

“Right.”

“I’m too tired to change into shorts. So…” She kept her eyes on me as she unbuttoned her jeans, and lowered the zipper.

Baby blue underwear.