Page 25 of Faithless
The bartender, a woman in her sixties with salt and pepper hair, looked up and squinted at us as we entered. “Can I help y’all?” she called across the room.
The few people, maybe eight in total, occupying benches and barstools turned to look at us as we crossed over to the bar. Rori paid them no mind, but I glared at the men who blatantly ogled her.
“Hi,” Rori said cheerily to the bartender. “We’d like a couple of rooms for the night, please.”
There was a pause as the bartender eyed us. “Separate rooms?”
“Yes, please.”
I ignored the uncomfortable little prickling in my chest as I planted my feet wide, crossing my arms and meeting the eyes of everyone who stared at us until they looked away. While the bartender flipped through some pages in a logbook, Rori glanced over her shoulder at me, her brows drawn in confusion. I was standing close to her, probably hovering. But none of these perverts were about to get an unobstructed view of her ass in leathers. Absolutely the fuck not.
“Sorry, miss.” The bartender looked up. “Only got the one room available. Will that work?”
“One room?” Rori repeated, looking around the bar. “Are you sure? It doesn’t seem very busy tonight.”
“We’re doing some renovations,” the bartender clipped out. “You want it or not?”
Rori pushed a hand back through her hair, her fingers landing on her bare nape. “Well, does it have two beds?”
Damn. Just twist the knife and announce to the whole world that you don’t want me,I thought.
The bartender’s eyes slid to me once before answering. “I think so. I’m not sure, though.”
“You’re not sure?”
The woman held up her logbook, the pages of which had been copied and recopied so many times, the room information was barely visible. “We don’t have computers up here yet. We’re all working with what we’ve got, miss.”
Rori sighed. “Well, I guess we’ll take it then.”
While she filled out our information in the book, I went out to get our saddlebags from the bikes. When I returned, Rori had our key and angled her head toward a rickety-looking staircase. I followed her up, floorboards creaking with each step I took. The landing brought us to a short hallway with doors on either side.
“This is us.” Rori went to a door with the number six and inserted the key. I wondered if we were both holding our breath as she turned the knob and swung it open.
“Fuck,” she hissed.
I barked out a laugh.
There was only one fucking bed.
“Where the fuck is that bird?” Rori crossed the room and opened the window, sticking her head out to night air, supposedly looking for Astarte.
“Relax, it’s no big deal.” I slid the bags from my shoulders and placed them on the bench at the foot of the bed. “They have cots in these places, right? I’ll sleep on that.” I went to the closet and found it empty aside from a few wire hangers. “Or the floor, I guess.”
“You’re not sleeping on the floor.” Rori pulled her head back in and shut the window. She turned toward the bed hesitantly, like she didn’t want to look at it. “Looks like a queen, so there should be plenty of room.”
“Aside from my feet hanging off the edge, sure.” I sat in the single, small armchair and started to take my boots off. A queen bed was actually pretty small for a guy my size, and Rori was a tall woman too. My bed back home was a king, not only because it was long enough to support my whole frame, but it was spacious enough to feel like I was still sleeping alone when anyone spent the night.
A queen bed would put enough space between Rori and I, but just barely.
“Do you snore?” Rori asked, perching on one side of the frayed quilt covering the mattress.
I snorted. “How many times have we both crashed at Daren and Lily’s place and you still don’t know the answer to that?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Well, I sleep pretty hard when I’m fucked up.” With a sigh, she tilted her head back to look around at the walls and ceiling. “But I don’t think I’m sleeping a wink in here, regardless.”
“You can kick me if I snore.” I slipped my fingers into the collar of my shirt. “Also, uh.”
“Oh God damnit, I forgot.” Rori stood from the bed with a groan. “You sleep naked. Maybe you should take the floor, I don’t want any cooties.”
