Page 95 of Bad Situation

*****

Jen

Oh, no. He’s not doing this.

It’s after midnight. We might be on the top of the Langham but there are still a few other rooms on this floor. He’s going to get us kicked out.

Andrew bursts through from the connecting suite he insisted on. He’s in gym shorts, a t-shirt, with a gun dangling from one hand. “What the hell’s going on?”

I hold up a calming hand. “It’s Eli. I’m going to get him to leave. Go back to your room.”

Eli pounds on the door and yells, “Open the fucking door.”

“I’ll get him to go away,” Andrew growls.

“Please. He won’t hurt me. Go to your room and take your gun with you.”

“Jen.” I hear him slap a hand on the door and leave it there before a thunk that sounds like his head. “Would you just,” slap, “open,” slap, “the damn,” slap, “door.”

I look back at Andrew and wave him away.

He points to the door separating our rooms. “Do not lock this.”

I roll my eyes.

He shuts the connecting door and I look out the peephole. It’s shadowed and all I can make out is Eli’s neck as he’s resting his head there.

I flip the deadbolt but leave the swing bar locked and pull the door open, allowing only a tiny space. “If you get me banned from the Langham, I swear I’ll take you down myself. This is my favorite place to stay when I’m in Chicago.”

Eli’s eyes are heavy and he smells like whiskey. He rests his forehead on the doorjamb, slurring, “Of course, it is.”

“How did you find me?” I demand.

When he lifts his eyelids, it looks like it takes every muscle in his body to do the job. “I installed a tracking app on your prepaid phone and flashed my badge at the desk girl. She was scared shitless and gave up your room number in a flash.”

My face falls. “Shut up.”

His drunken lips tip on one side and that hint of his playful self tugs at my heart. “No, you shut up.”

“You’ve been tracking me? Spying on me?”

“Baby, it’s not like I don’t know where you are all the time anyway.”

“Don’t call me baby.”

He tries to push a drunk hand through the small space, but lucky for me, his forearm is too thick. “You like me calling you baby when I’m inside you. Or when I’ve got my hand between your legs. It made you go fuckin’ crazy when you were sucking my co—”

“Stop,” I snap and swat his hand away. “How did you get here? I hope you didn’t drive.”

“Uber. Why’d you drag your sweet ass across the country?”

“Because I was nosy.” He blinks slowly before exerting more energy to open his eyes wider. I sigh. “And I was worried. But really because I was nosy.”

His face falls.

I lean into the wall and lower my voice. “Why don’t you want me here?”

“If you don’t open the door, I’m gonna lie down right here,” he points to the floor, “and go to sleep with my boot wedged in the door because I’m not letting you shut me out.”