Page 85 of Forgive You

And I get one more set of wide eyes and a swallow of her slender throat, before she disappears, and I chuckle into the empty room.

She’s mine.

23

“Ilove Ford.”

“Shut up, Jason.” My glare is lethal before I turn back toward the girl behind the desk. “I’m sorry, there must be a mistake. There should be two separate rooms. Weneedseparate rooms.”

Emphasis onneed. Jason has been eying me like a lion staring at a steak the entire drive to Santa Barbara, and there’s no taking it slow if we have to share a room. My resolve is hanging by a thread after two hours in the car.

Damn, Ford.

I liked the boy, but now he’s blacklisted until the foreseeable future.

What idiot puts him in charge of booking hotel rooms anyway? Don’t we have people for that? Doesn’t Ford?!

The girl behind the desk offers me a friendly smile, then glances at Jason, before she arches an eyebrow at me, as if she’s sayinglucky bitch.“I’m sorry, ma’am. You’re booked for a suite, and I don’t have any more singles available.”

My mouth flies open again, but it’s jammed close when Jason swipes the keycard from the desk. “The suite is fine, thank you very much.”

His dazzling smile makes her blush, which raises the temperature of my blood.

“Jason!” I hiss.

He winks, a crooked grin slipping on his features that has those butterflies rattling the cage again.Dammit.

“Come on, Mutt.” Jason lifts both our bags from the floor, his four-legged stray quick to follow.Traitorous dog.

“Please.” I lock eyes with the girl one more time, but she shakes her head before I can beg her some more.

“The hotel is completely booked. I’m sorry.”

Stomping, I trail behind the man who’s looking way too good in white shorts and a mossy-green linen button-down. His muscles flex as the bags hang beside his body, his toned back tensing against the fabric.

I’ve seen him without a shirt more times than I can count, but the memory of how his skin feels beneath my palms is still fresh from last night’s dream, where I woke up soaking wet and horny, and this is not fucking helping.

Mutt trots behind him without a leash, and I frown. “You two seem to be getting along. I thought you didn’t like dogs.”

The little dog was happy to see me when Jason picked me up, but the way his ears prick up whenever Jason speaks tells me I’m not his favorite anymore.

“I don’t.” Jason glances at the furball below his ankles. “But he’s alright.”

Blue eyes collide with my browns, and a playful smirk has my thighs clenching. “Jealous?”

I ignore his comment. “Are you keeping him?”

“No.”

“Why not? He likes you. You like him. You have more than enough space for him.”

“When I share my space with someone, it’s going to be a human. Someone with long blonde hair and whiskey brown eyes who gets on my nerves all the fucking time. Not a dog.”

I gulp, almost tripping over my own feet while he just keeps ambling forward as if he didn’t just say that.

“I already found him a new owner.”

“You did?”

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