Page 16 of On My Side (Quiblings #3)

“Okay, okay,” he wheezes, wiping at his eyes. “Don’t move. I’m going to grab the towels.”

I raise my hands to show my obedience as he bends down. “Yes, sir.”

The speed at which he stands up straight, towels still on the ground, is almost comical.

“What did you just say?” he asks, face red.

Huh? What did I just…

Oh my god.

Oh my god .

Okay, Audrey, play it cool. It’s nothing. You didn’t mean it in a sexual way.

Even if he obviously interpreted it as sexual.

I laugh nervously. “What, no one ever calls you sir? Kids these days have no manners.”

He laughs, but this time it’s strained. “You can’t say stuff like that, Aud.”

I feel lightheaded as he bends over again, collecting the towels in his arms and reaching to grab the phone that landed by my feet.

Aud .

Pipe .

He’s comfortable with us. He’s shortening our names like he’s ours, like we’re his.

He stands, avoiding my eyes. “Do you want to come in?” he asks, and I nod. He holds the door open and I squeeze past him, shivering when my breasts brush against his chest.

This! Is! The! Worst!

I clear my throat and glance around the room.

It looks like every other room in the inn.

King sized bed in the middle of the room, beachy, brown and blue photography and art against off-white walls.

I wanted it to be modern and cozy and beachy and, not to toot my own horn, I did a damn good job at it.

Well, the interior designer I hired did.

“So,” Ren says, closing the door behind him. My shoulders tense. I’m alone with this hot as hell man in a hotel room. This feels intimate. “How’s Leia doing? Adjusting well?”

I laugh. “Oh, she’s doing great. She and Piper are thick as thieves already. Good luck getting her back.”

He laughs and places the towels in a messy pile on the desk, my phone beside them. He sits in the desk chair and puts on a round pair of glasses.

Fuck. Me.

“You wear glasses?” I squeak.

He eyes me skeptically behind his bronze wireframes. “So do you.”

Sure, but they don’t make me look like the hottest human to ever exist. My glasses make me look like an exhausted mom.

“I knew something was missing. Now the exterior matches the nerdy-as-hell interior.” Is that too mean? I’m trying to be casual. Friendly. I’m awful at this.

“Ha, ha,” he responds dryly, crossing his arms across his broad chest and stretching his legs out in front of him. I’m filled with the disturbing urge to bite his thigh.

I gulp and motion to the pile of towels he placed on the desk. “I brought you towels.”

He lifts the one in his hand. “Thanks, but there were some in the bathroom when I got here.”

Goddammit. I’d been hoping my staff made a mistake with the last minute reservation, but no, they have to be too good at their jobs.

“Oh,” I say. I need to come up with better words. Better excuses. Because this is humiliating.

I reach over him and collect the towels in my arms. “I’m going to put these in the bathroom for you. In case you need them,” I say awkwardly.

He’s still avoiding my gaze, which makes sense. I’m being a fucking weirdo. “Right. Thanks.”

I shuffle in the bathroom. It smells so much like him, the scent heavy in the air like a dense, incredible-smelling fog. I stand on my tiptoes and put the towels on the shelf next to the sink. When I lower myself to my feet, I quietly pull back the shower curtain.

I have to know what this man washes himself with. I’m pleased when I find out he’s not a 3-in-1 guy, but has separate shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. That must be his secret.

“La la la la la la.”

I should be rushing out of the room at Piper’s text tone, the la la la’s from Gilmore Girls , but I’m not.

“I’m fixing a few things in here,” I call to Ren, carefully flipping the top of his body wash so it doesn’t make any noise. “But that’s Piper. Can you check to make sure everything’s okay for me? Password is 0504.”

“May the Fourth be with you,” Ren says as I inhale the scent. What a fucking nerd.

“Piper’s birthday,” I respond, soaking in the soft smell of sandalwood and sea salt.

“Damn, a dream birthday,” Ren says, voice wistful. “I’ll read the text.”

I take another whiff. God, I wish this was something I could get high off. Maybe it is, I feel high. Light headed and floaty and…

And did I ever close 4Play?

I freeze, dread filling my body. 4Play is open on Sky’s newest audio and I gave Ren my password and…

I shove the body wash haphazardly onto the shower shelf and lunge towards the door. “Ren, wait—”

My heart is pounding when he glances up from my phone, the screen reflected in his lenses—the blue and gray bubbles of mine and Piper’s text thread.

“Piper wants to know if she could eat your Cherry Garcia if she replaces it tomorrow,” he says, holding my phone out to me.

I take it, hand shaking. “Did… did you text her back?”

“I have six sisters, Audrey. I know better than to give away someone’s ice cream,” he answers.

I try to search his eyes, but he looks away as he grabs his own phone. I watch in the reflection as he goes to his alarms. “I don’t mean to be rude, but it’s been a long day and I’m tired…”

“Right,” I interrupt. “Right, I’ll get out of your hair.”

This time, he meets my eyes and I swallow, fighting the urge to blink.

“You’re not in my hair,” he says quietly. “You’re not… you’re not a bother, if that’s what you’re insinuating.”

I force a laugh. “Please, I know myself well enough to…”

Suddenly he’s on his feet and taking a step towards me. “Don’t finish that sentence,” he whispers, eyes intent on mine. “Please, don’t finish whatever you were going to say. I don’t think I can take you talking shit about yourself tonight.”

I stare at him. “I’m not…”

“Yes, you are,” he interrupts. He reaches his hand out, and softly tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

When I freeze, he pulls his hand back with urgency.

“You talk about yourself like you’re the worst person in the world, and you’re not, Aud.

You’re a good person. A good mom. It breaks my heart to hear you talk about yourself that way. ”

“You never talk about yourself that way?” I ask, mouth dry. He’s staring at me with an intensity of a total eclipse, and similarly, I know looking at him like this is just as dangerous.

“That’s not what we’re talking about right now, sweetheart.”

“You—you called me sweetheart,” I whisper.

His cheeks flush, like he hadn’t realized he said it. “I won’t say it again. I’m sorry…”

“What if I want you to say it again?” I ask.

He slowly lifts his hand, cupping my cheek. “What are we doing, Audrey?” he asks, voice husky. “Why did you come to my room?”

“I told you, I wasn’t sure if…”

“Right, the towels,” he interrupts. “If they weren’t in my room, I could have called the front desk. You didn’t have to leave Piper and come to the inn, but you did. Tell me why.”

I want to lean into his touch. To tell him the truth, that I wanted to be close to him. I want to be close to him.

But I can’t.

I take a step back and his hand falls to his side. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, “I shouldn’t have come.”

He steps back and inhales shakily. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry,” I say again.

“Okay,” he repeats.

He’s avoiding my eyes and I want to take it back, to rewind the tape and not let his hand fall.

But I can’t.

“You probably want this back,” Ren says, giving me my phone.

“Thanks. Sleep well.”

“Goodnight, Audrey.”

When I get home, I bring Piper my pint of Cherry Garcia and bury myself beneath the blankets.

It’s not till then I finally let the tears fall.

I feel such shame for rejecting him, for hurting him.

But it’s for the better, because if he knew how damaged I am, he wouldn’t want me.

It’s better to shut him down altogether.

The upside is he doesn’t know I know he’s Sky.

Despite that, the darkness still covers me, a familiar companion pulling me into the depths again.

I cry myself to sleep.