I look up, an older white man shuffles out from the back of the office. Wrinkles sagging his neck, he adjusts a pair of reading glasses on his slender nose. “You need a room?” he croaks.
“Two. Adjoining if you have them.”
“Only have the one,” he says. “Would you like by the night or by the hour?”
By the hour…
That reminds me of Banks.
He told me in high school, he’d fuck in motels if he had the cash to “go all-out” for his date. Pay by the hour, buy her flowers, light some Dollar Store candles.
I never had an issue finding places to have sex.
Perks of growing up wealthy, thanks to my dad’s lucrative job. I was an only child in a humongous mansion-sized home with a nice pool house. Perfect for those nights alone with my high school girlfriend.
Banks slept on a pullout couch most of his childhood. I realize we’re different in a lot of ways, but similar in ones that are needed to protect Sulli.
To the old man, I say, “For the night, not by the hour.”
“Forty. Cash only.”
I slide a few bills out of my wallet and pass them over. Before I can ask how many beds there are, he’s handing me a key. Guess it doesn’t matter anyway. It’s the only room.
But shit, what if there’s only one bed?
That scenario plays on loop with every footfall back to the Jeep. Banks and Sulli are out of view behind Booger, but the closer I approach, the more I hear.
“I bet you I can do twenty,” Sulli says competitively.
“You know what I weigh, mermaid? If I sit on you while you do push-ups, I’d break your back before you hit five. And then Akara will shred me to pieces.”
“He’s not here, Banks.”
I’m right here.
Really, I’m actually still thirty-some feet away. Sulli is just loud. It doesn’t take a lot of strain to overhear her.
With a kicked-up pulse, I vacillate between walking faster. To interrupt them. And slowing down…just to see what happens.
“Tell you what, get on my back,” Banks replies to Sulli. “If I can’t do forty push-ups with you on me, then I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Deal.”
I move faster.
Reaching the Jeep, I round the bumper and see Sulli straddling Banks’ back, his palms digging into gravel as he does perfect military push-ups.
Noticing me, they freeze for a second.
“Hey,” I cut in, trying to sound casual. “We have a room.” I dangle the key.
Banks goes to stand, and in a seamless maneuver, he clasps the backs of Sulli’s thighs and hoists her up higher on his back as he rises to his feet.
Her lips part with heady breath. Her arm instinctively curves around his collar. Legs tightening around his muscular waist.
Banks has Sulli secure in a piggyback.
And my heart has stopped pumping blood. Because I can’t get over how she’s looking at him. Her eyes roam over Banks like he just made love to her in a motel parking lot.
A knot lodges in my throat.
Banks doesn’t have view of her face. He can’t even see her expression. Or the way she drinks in his hands that grip the bare flesh of her legs. He’s just hawkeyed on me, and slowly, he sets her feet on the ground.
For my sake.
Why does Banks have to be such a good dude? I wish he were a complete bastard so I’d have reason to separate them. To protect her.
I’m just the asshole keeping them apart.
“There’s only one key?” Banks asks.
“Just one,” I nod. Coming up to Sulli, I steal the Philly baseball cap off her head and try to fit in on mine, but it’s tight.
She smiles a little, and I tell her, “Banks and I will take the floor.”
Sulli passes me and Banks, then grabs a couple sleeping bags from the trunk. “If the bed is big enough, we can all just camp out on the mattress in sleeping bags.”
Banks’ hot gaze is on me. Waiting for me to make a decision. I am the leader, and I don’t want to make a big deal out of this right now.
She pauses in my silence. “If that’s…fucking cool with you?”
I wipe all thoughts about popping cherries and Sulli clean.
“Yeah, it’s cool with me.” I take the sleeping bags from her. “We’d need these anyway. Who knows what’s living in the sheets?”
She grimaces. “This is why camping is fucking superior.”
“Not a fan of motels?” Banks asks her and tosses me my backpack.