Page 5 of Losing My Rejection

It was one thing to get hit on by a man and another to have a physical reaction to such a thing. That was confusing enough. But to get hit on by an absolute pig and still have a reaction to it? That seemed fucking crazy.

What the hell was wrong with me? Was my body broken? Had the past couple of days been so stressful that I was desperate for any form of release, no matter who it came from? I hoped it was the latter. Being gay was not on my list of things to do, and I didn’t plan on adding it to my calendar anytime soon. Besides, even if I ever began to like men, which wasn’t going to happen, I sure as fuck wouldn’t have sex with that asshole.

My brain wanted to think about it, to mull it over until I drove myself crazy. But I just plain didn’t have the energy for a breakdown right now. My entire life was up in the air and there were a lot more important things to focus on than why my dick decided to be hard for no reason.

You know what? It was probably that sticky bun. It was just so good it gave me a boner. That had to be it. But I just didn’t notice it until I talked to that baker guy. Maybe that’s why he hit on me, because he saw I was turned on and thought I was hitting on him. That’s most likely what happened and was a completely logical explanation.

Or so I told myself.

Pulling up to the front of the hotel, I parked my car at the curb behind the Customer Parking Only sign. Taking a few deep breaths, I pushed all thoughts of the baker and his sticky buns out of my mind. As I stared up at the hotel, the harsh realization sinking in that this was going to be my home for a while, my boner faded.

Depression. It worked every time.

Out of the car, I slung my duffel over my shoulder and headed for the entrance. The door dinged overhead as I stepped inside. Behind the desk, a man with long dark hair pulled up into a messy bun looked up. He dog-eared the page he’d been reading in his book and placed it under the desk behind his computer. A warm, friendly smile filled his face as his bright green eyes focused on me. Just what I needed, another person who was too cheerful for their own damn good.

“Checking in?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I grumbled, dropping my bag on the floor. “Josh Hartwell. I called last night.”

“Ah, yes!” His fingers flicked across the keyboard in front of him. “I just got your room all ready for you.” He glanced up, giving me another friendly smile. “Good thing I got it prepped last night. You’re here a lot earlier than I expected.”

“I didn’t expect to be here at all.”

The man’s face fell slightly, his brows knitting together. “I know,” he nodded. “Nobody who stays here ever expects it. But you’re in good company, I promise. We’ll take care of you.”

“We?”

“Well, me, I guess,” he chuckled, holding out a hand to shake. “The name is Sam. I run the place.”

I hesitated for a moment, remembering that baker back at the market. Whatever his name was. Regardless, I didn’t want to repeat that situation twice in one day.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Sam said, pulling his hand back. “I’m sure you’ve been through a lot.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Sorry. I’m just… I’m tired.”

“Understandable.” He reached under the desk and pulled out a key. “Come with me. I’ll show you to your room.”

Hefting my bags up once more, I followed Sam to the elevator. We stood side by side in silence as the doors closed and the lift took us up. At the top, Sam led me down a long hallway to a room at the very end. He used the key to turn the lock over and pushed the door aside, gesturing for me to come inside.

It was a fairly standard hotel room. A single bed, a desk, a dresser, a television, a tiny closet, and a bathroom. It did have a tiny kitchenette, but it hardly looked suitable for anything more than an omelet. It was nothing fancy, but not the worst I’d ever seen either. And it sure as hell beat sleeping in my car or out in the woods.

“The room is pretty self-explanatory,” Sam said, gesturing to each section in turn. “The staff does laundry twice a week on Monday and Thursday. They’ll come in and strip the bed down for you, so don’t worry about that. And there're toiletries, towels, and soap in the bathroom if you need it.” He placed my key on the small table and stopped, looking me over. “You look better prepared than most, but if you need anything, just let me know. I’ll see what I can do.”

I nodded, ready for him to leave so I could be alone. “I should be fine. I have a little money.”

“Well, hold on to what you can. Shifter Grove isn’t really known for having a plethora of jobs open, but we’ll see what we can find you. Usually, I ask guests to help out with the hotel as a way to earn their keep, but I’ve got all the help I need right now.” He paused, looking me over again. “I’ll see if I can find you something in town. A little money will help you get back on your feet quicker.”

“Great.”

I tried not to sound unappreciative, but the last thing I wanted to think about at the moment was getting a job. My entire life had been upended in the past twenty-four hours. I needed some time to recuperate. Judging by the look on Sam’s face at my gruffness, he at least understood that.

“I’ll leave you be for now. Come down to the kitchen later when you want to eat. Every guest gets a meal a day.

“Thanks.”

“And Josh,” he said, heading toward the door. “I’ve only got three rules if you’re going to stay here.”

I couldn’t help an exasperated sigh. I just wanted to fucking sleep.

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