Page 3 of Confused AF (At First #2)

three

~ Otto ~

F rom the moment we had touched down in Las Vegas, nothing had gone to plan.

My checked bag had ended up on another flight. Probably. The airline had been vague about it and annoyingly unhelpful. Basically, it might or might not end up in Vegas eventually.

While an unbudgeted shopping excursion for clothes added another layer of stress, it could have been worse.

Rather than pack the things I needed for the expo, I had shipped them ahead to the hotel. The fees to send enchanted makeup palettes across state lines had been exorbitant, but I had justified the cost with the peace of mind that they would be waiting for me when I arrived.

Only, that hadn’t happened either.

Again, no one could tell me why or exactly what had gone wrong. The tracking information clearly showed that the boxes had arrived. Someone had signed for them. After that, they had apparently vanished into the fucking ether.

As a rotten cherry on the whole hot-garbage sundae, the hotel had been overbooked. Obviously not my fault, but that hadn’t stopped them from penalizing me for their mistake. Instead of the suite I had reserved, Vaden and I would now be sharing a standard room with a single king-sized bed.

I hadn’t even been in the city for an hour, and I already wanted to go home.

When the woman behind the counter quoted me a price nearly identical to what I had paid online for the suite, I nearly choked. What choice did I have, though? Gritting my teeth against the injustice, I reached into my back pocket for my wallet.

Before I could fish out my credit card, however, Vaden’s hand came to rest on my wrist, and he quietly ushered me to the side. Though his lips curved into a benign smile, those startling, catlike eyes flashed with thinly veiled menace.

“I think we can do better than that,” he said, his voice even, almost bored. “Check again.”

The brunette didn’t even glance at her computer. “That is the current rate for a standard room.”

“But we didn’t reserve the room today.”

Clearly well-versed in dealing with difficult customers, she didn’t flinch, and she didn’t back down. “The original reservation has been canceled, and the new—”

“Which we didn’t ask for,” Vaden interrupted smoothly. “Nor did we ask for you to lose the packages that were entrusted to you.”

She licked her lips and brushed her hair over her shoulder, a small but visible crack in her armor. “We’re searching for your shipment. I’m sure it will be located soon.”

“Oh, I have no doubt.” Rather than reassurance, it sounded a hell of a lot like a threat. “Still, the fact remains that you managed to lose both our packages and our room. Surely that deserves some kind of compensation.”

A person I assumed to be the manager arrived then—a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair and a plastic smile—and ushered the brunette away from the computer. Dressed in a crisp suit with a blood-red tie, he sort of looked like a banker.

I instantly disliked him.

“Gentlemen, I apologize for the confusion. Your packages were transferred to the convention center for your convenience.” His eyes slid to mine, his smile wide enough to show off every one of his abnormally white teeth. “I’m happy to have them returned to the hotel for your inspection.”

I practically fell against the counter, my entire body weightless with relief. “No, that’s okay. I’ll go pick them up myself.”

Less chance for any more mishaps that way.

“Of course, sir.” His attention turned to the computer screen. “I see the reservation is under a Mr. Stillwater?” He clacked his fingers over the keyboard, then glanced up, his gaze landing on Vaden first before coming back to me.

“I’m Mr. Stillwater.”

His smile brightened another degree. “Are you employed with Arcana Resorts?”

My eyebrows drew together, and I cocked my head, pretty sure I had missed something. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m just checking for available discounts.”

I perked up at the mention of a discount, then deflated almost as quickly when I realized I definitely didn’t qualify. Still, it couldn’t hurt to try.

“Um, do I have to prove it?”

“No.” His pale blue eyes twinkled. “Just a verbal confirmation is fine.”

“In that case—” I stood up straighter and dipped my head firmly. “—yes. I absolutely work for Arcana Resorts.”

He mirrored my nod and returned his attention to the screen in front of him. “It appears we just had a cancellation.”

Bullshit.

“Another suite.”

Double bullshit.

“Would you be interested, or would you prefer to stick with the standard room?”

“How much?” I asked, bracing myself for some astronomical markup.

He rattled off a number nearly half of what I’d been quoted for the sad, left-over room.

“The suite is fine,” Vaden answered in a tone that suggested this had been the expected outcome the entire time.

“Very good.”

It took approximately two minutes after that for him to finish checking us in, run my credit card, and pass a couple of electronic room keys across the counter. As I thanked him, I tried to match Vaden’s nonchalance, but I didn’t think I quite pulled it off.

When Vaden arched an eyebrow at me, I knew I hadn’t.

“I think I just committed a crime,” I told him while we crossed the vast lobby to find the elevators.

“You didn’t commit a crime.”

“I do not work for Arcana Resorts. I’m pretty sure that counts as fraud or something.”

Vaden rolled his eyes and swatted my arm with his tail. “At best, you’re an accessory after the fact.”

It hadn’t really hurt, but I rubbed my arm and glared anyway. “You’re not even a little bit excited that we got the suite and a discount?”

“The room prices are artificially inflated for the convention. Maybe even double of what they would typically be.” He fell silent as we filed into the elevator, moving to the back wall to make room for the horde of other guests.

“You might have saved ten percent,” he added quietly from the corner of his mouth.

“And it had nothing to do with an employee discount.”

I tilted my head back to frown up at him, barely resisting the urge to stick my tongue out. “Look, I’m not used to stuff like this. Just let me be happy.”

As more people filled the cab, he hooked his arm around my waist and pulled me closer, holding me tightly against his side.

“By all means,” he said, bending to murmur the words against my ear. “You’re cute when you’re happy.”

I froze.

My breath stuttered, puffing harshly from my lips, and my heart flopped over like a drama queen. Blood roared in my ears, muting the other sounds around me, and I felt dizzy as the scent of his cologne filled my head.

My brain glitched, throwing up error codes like confetti, even as I tried to logic my way out of it.

His arm around my waist served a practical purpose inside the crowded elevator. By standing close together, it made room for other passengers, and his larger, more visible frame prevented me from being trampled.

Completely benign. Totally justifiable. It didn’t mean anything.

Only, it felt like it meant something.

I focused on the numbers on the elevator panel, willing them to change faster, desperate for any distraction from the warmth of his hand against my side. So, of course, we stopped on almost every floor between the first and ours.

When the elevator finally slowed to a stop on the fourteenth floor, I sighed in gratitude, but the relief didn’t last. Vaden’s arms dropped away as we stepped out of the cab, that small action bringing with it a pang of disappointment I wasn’t ready to examine.

My reaction to the loss of contact, however, didn’t go unnoticed.

“Everything okay?”

I nodded quickly and flashed him a smile. “Fine.” I swallowed, hating the tightness in my throat and the tremor in my voice. “Just a little overwhelmed, I guess.”

That much, at least, was true. Between the flight and the hotel drama, my nerves felt fried, and the incident in the elevator had damn near pushed me over the edge.

Vaden studied me for what felt like an eternity before he nodded and started walking again. “Try not to stress too much.”

As we approached the door to our suite, I retrieved the keycard from my back pocket and tapped it against my palm with a sigh. “How can I not?”

Sure, we had a room now, and I hadn’t been forced to take out a second mortgage just to afford it. By my estimation, though, everything else sucked.

“Because it’s my job to worry for you,” he answered, his tone steady and confident. “Everything is going to be fine.”

“You can’t know that,” I argued, pausing outside of our room to look up at him.

“Actually, I can.” He plucked the black-and-gold card from my hand and tapped it against the lock. Then he pressed down on the lever-style handle and cracked the door open, but he didn’t enter the room. “Do you trust me?”

“I barely know you.” I couldn’t look at him when I said it, though.

“Fair enough, but at least trust me to do my job well.”

I closed my eyes briefly and huffed out a long breath. “Yeah, okay, I can do that.”

“Then that’s a start.” He finally pushed the door open wide and ushered me inside ahead of him.

The common area appeared spacious and filled with the typical hotel furniture that valued function over style or comfort. Across the room, gold curtains stood open wide, the shimmering material bracketing a wall-sized window that overlooked the Strip.

“Okay, I’m trusting you. So, what’s the plan?” I asked, flopping down in the middle of the charcoal-gray sofa.

“First, you need to eat.”

“But I’m not hungry.”

He ignored me as he lowered himself gracefully into one of the armchairs. “Once our luggage is delivered, we should head to the convention center to check on your packages.”

That idea, I could get behind. Not only did I want to confirm that the boxes had actually arrived, but I needed to make sure nothing had been damaged during shipping.

“Agreed.”

“After that, we can go to the mall,” he continued. “You don’t need clothes for the entire week right now. Just find something to wear tomorrow, and a few basics like socks and underwear.”

Kicking my shoes off, I tucked my feet under me on the sofa and shook my head. “If my suitcase doesn’t make it here, I’m not going to have time to go back to the mall to buy more clothes.”

“Just focus on what you need for tomorrow,” he reiterated. “Let me worry about the rest.”

I scrunched my nose to show my displeasure at the idea, but I didn’t argue.

This trust thing was turning out to be a lot harder than I expected, and it had little to do with Vaden.

I had worked tirelessly to make it to the Spellbound Expo, and I needed everything to go perfectly.

With the week already off to a rocky start, I couldn’t afford for anything else to go sideways.

And the only way to make sure that it didn’t was by micromanaging every minute detail into submission.

While I had faith in Vaden’s capabilities, and I knew he could be a tremendous asset if I let him, I didn’t know if I had that ability. As much as I wanted to trust him, control had suddenly become a lifeline, one I couldn’t let go of without drowning.

My eyes popped open when the cushion beside me dipped. Before I could question him, he pushed a memo pad and a pen into my hands.

“Let’s make a list,” he said, his tone oddly reassuring in its assertiveness.

“A list?”

He tapped the blank sheet on top with his index finger. “Write down everything we need to accomplish today and tomorrow. Then we can decide what you’re comfortable delegating.”

“I…uh…” I bit down on my bottom lip and looked away, his offer making my eyes sting for some stupid reason. “Okay.”

“I may not understand exactly what it is you do, but I get that this convention is important to you.” He reached out, resting his hand lightly on my bent knee. “If you try to do it all on your own, though, you’re going to crash and burn by mid-week. Let me help you.”

As much as I hated to admit it, I knew he had a point. The idea of giving up control of anything still made me feel itchy, but doing it all myself defeated the entire purpose of his presence.

“Start small,” he suggested, his lips curving into an indulgent grin that made my stomach flutter. “How about I order room service for lunch? Do you think you could let me do that?”

I took a deep breath and mirrored his smile. “I’m really not hungry.”

“You need to eat, and besides, it’ll take a while to get here. If you still don’t want it once it arrives, we can save it for later.”

I considered his very reasonable offer for a few seconds, then nodded. “Yeah, okay. Just nothing with onions.”

“Allergic?”

“No, I just don’t like them.”

Chuckling, he patted my knee before pushing to his feet. “Start the list. I’ll order food.”

I still felt shaky, a little resistant, but more optimistic than I had been a few minutes ago. Giving up control wouldn’t be easy, but if I could let go, even a little, I might make it through the coming days without losing my mind entirely.

“Vaden?”

He stopped near the desk, his hand hovering over the room phone, and looked over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

I ducked my head and peeked up at him through my lashes. “Thanks.”