Depends on Who's Asking - Lani Lynn Vale Page 0,6

of this. December twenty-first, or possibly even the twenty-second, we could go home. And that was if we didn’t have fucking Ebola by then.

“How do you think this happened?” she asked curiously. “Goddamn, but Brielle always gets me into the worst situations. This one, though, by far tops all the others.”

“I have no idea how this happened,” I admitted. “But you’re going to have to tell me what she’s done and why you think that this is all her fault.”

Carolina moved then, turning her back to me as she walked farther into the sparsely decorated room at our backs.

My eyes trailed over her instead of the room, focusing on the black, skin-tight pants that she was wearing. Her white button-down shirt that had sleeves that came to about halfway up her forearm were tucked into those skin-tight black pants, and I couldn’t see any underwear lines at all.

Then there were the heels. My God, she was wearing sky-high black heels that I’d never, ever been attracted to on a woman before. But on her?

Yeah, I was panting slightly.

Like a complete loser.

“Brielle is a tad bit selfish,” Carolina said as she whirled around and placed her ass on the bed as she faced me. “Likely she thought it’d be funny. Likely, she knew that this chick had the fuckin’ Ebola or whatever it is called and sent him anyway, knowing what would happen. I’m not sure. She didn’t tell me. But I seriously can see her doing this.”

She sounded like an awful person, to be honest.

I wondered idly why Carolina would hang out with her.

“If you’re wondering why I hang out with her…” Carolina leaned back onto her hands on the bed, her breasts jiggling with the movement. “I’m not really sure. I met her a few weeks ago while visiting my mother at the hospital. And, I’m not sure if she actually was doing me a favor, or if she honestly thought it would get her into my mom’s good graces, but she said, ‘oh, hey! I have a friend that’s a judge. You should totally go do this…’ and wham, bam. I’m now a judge, I have a great job. Oh, and all of a sudden I don’t tell Brielle no when she wants to grab lunch every once in a while.”

My mouth twitched up at the corner at her non-amused tone.

“Interesting,” I said. “So, what’s that mean for you now? Are you still going to be friends after this?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m only fifteen minutes into this quarantine. With you, a man that I barely even know. Needless to say, there’s no telling what my feelings for her will be when we make it out of this on the other end.”

She had a point there.

To keep myself from staring at her, and her nipples that were starting to poke through the thin material of her shirt, I took a look around.

And nearly groaned.

The suite we were in was big, I’d give them that.

But it was meant for a couple.

Not two people that’d met each other, but really hadn’t ‘met’ each other, if you know what I mean.

There was one single bed in the middle of the room. A large, king-size bed that had a big ‘queenly’ vibe to it. Four poles, one on each corner. Large, white drapery over the top of the bedposts. Hell, there was a very likely possibility that she had to jump up to get on the damn bed.

I’d been too busy trying not to stare that I hadn’t watched.

The bed had bright white sheets on it, multiple pillows. Fluffy nonessential ones and thick sleeping ones.

And then there was the bathroom.

“I sure hope that opaques or something, or we’re going to be getting real familiar with each other rather quickly,” Carolina said as she looked the same direction I did.

I swallowed hard and walked to the wall, only to realize that there wasn’t a wall there at all.

“They’re not finished with it yet,” I found myself saying. “I’m sure that there’s supposed to be glass here.” I waved my hand through the empty space between the toilet and the non-wall.

“Great,” she grumbled. “Maybe they have extra sheets that we can hang up and put there so you’re not watching my ass while I pee.”

I would’ve laughed had she not looked so forlorn.

I walked to the closet near the front entrance where I assumed they’d keep the linens, and stopped when I saw the full kitchenette.

“No oven,” I said. “But we have a