Page 40 of When Fate Breaks
“Well, that’s probably our cue,” I say, motioning in the direction of the party with my head.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “We should go in. I could definitely use a shower,” he says, motioning towards his sweat soaked shirt.
“Same,” I agree. “About to give myself a full spa treatment with that free bar of hotel soap and get real comfy in that hopefully provided robe.”
“Oh, yeah. Your suitcase,” Blake says, his brows pulling together.
“It’s all good,” I say. “C’mon.”
We head back down the stairwell, me peeking out of the doorway to make sure no employees are lurking in the hallway before we step out of it, playing it cool as we make it back to the main corridor. We both pause when we reach it, remembering our rooms are in separate directions.
“Well, goodnight,” I say hesitantly.
“Goodnight,” Blake says, not quite moving.
“Will we see y’all in the morning?” I ask.
“No, I don’t think so,” he says. “I have a baseball game back home at 2 p.m., so we’ll be heading out early.”
“Oh, okay. Well, goodnight,” I repeat.
“Goodnight,” he says with a small smile, turning and walking towards his room this time, me doing the same.
When I reach our door, I open it slowly, trying not to disturb anyone. When I poke my head in, I see my parents aren’t back yet and Steph is still in the exact same spot, turned away from me now with the comforter thrown over her waist.
I tip-toe over to the mini fridge, bending down to open it and letting out a sigh when I find it empty of water bottles. That impromptu musical performance/dance party really worked up a thirst. I grab a couple of dollar bills from my purse, shoving them in my back pocket and heading out for the vending machine. When I open the door though, I startle, already finding someone in the doorway.
Blake stands frozen just inside the hallway, both of his hands behind his back.
“Hey,” he blurts out.
“Um,hi?” I say, my hand resting on my heart. “You scared the crap out of me.”
“Sorry,” he says, averting his gaze. “I was about to knock.”
“Why?”
“I just…um,” Blake stammers, pulling his hand out from behind his back, a blue ball of fabric clutched in his palm. I glance from the material to his face, tilting my head in question.
“I thought you might like something to wear to sleep. Other than the hopefully provided robe.”
My lips part as he stretches his arm out to me, releasing his grip on the fabric. When it unravels, I see that it’s his Jays baseball t-shirt.
“Oh, Blake,” I whisper. “You don’t have to.”
“It’s okay,” he says, a tinge of pink on his cheeks. “I want you to be comfortable.”
“Really,” I insist. “It’s just one night. I don’t want to take your–”
“Evangeline.”
My gaze snaps to his.
“Just shut up and take the t-shirt.”
I blow a breath out of my nose. Taking the shirt from his hand. I hold it up. SeeingDi Fazioin all capital letters and the number 13 printed on the back in red font. “Thank you,” I say. “I’ll get it back to you before you leave in the morning.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Blake says.
