Page 21 of Botched

He’s still grinning as he responds. “No one ever does.”

Jules clicks her tongue. “So that kneel. Rory, what the fuck was that? I mean it was hot as hell.”

Heat rushes to my cheeks. It’s the last thing I want to talk about, but I know that’s what everyone’s going to be focused on. “It…it felt like a good way to hammer home the point,” I mutter.

“The way that Theo touched you definitely made it better. I think you two really struck gold with that.”

Is that what I want to be known for?Kneelingin front of Theo? But I remind myself that this is just my gimmick for now. It's my breakthrough into a main spot. I can prove what I can do—that I can stand out and put in the work. Lemons into lemonade. Nathan’s not going to make me stick with it for long.

“Are you hungry?” Hext asks, pushing off the wall. “Jules and I were going to hit up a diner or something—get a quick meal before we crash. Wanna join?”

I genuinely consider it. Food sounds amazing right now, but bed sounds better. I want to call Janet and see if Dad managed to stay awake through the whole thing and if he got to see me, but it’s late. She’s not going to answer. I’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning and call before my flight home.

“I’m tired. I’ll pass. We can get food after the next show, yeah?”

“It’s a date.” Jules grins.

We hug and I promise to get the dress back to her after I wash it. She waves me off, telling me that I don’t need to worry about that. Hext waves at me, and then I leave for the night.

The hotel that the talent is put up in is very swanky. Since it’s late, the lobby is pretty vacant. White tiles surround a blue and beige carpeted seating area. The chairs are all either dusty blue or beige with end tables near them. There’s a gorgeous chandelier above the sitting area that reminds me of a dandelion puff with different lights coming off of it. I walk past the poor night receptionist who looks bored out of her mind and press the up button on the elevator.

It dings open and I wheel my bag in behind me. Before the doors can swing close and I can get closer to being embraced by the not-quite-soft enough hotel sheets, Austin slides into the elevator with me.

I don’t really know Austin Slater. He hangs around backstage, but he’s not booked often unless it’s to lose. He has blond hair that he slicks back with a boatload of gel, and his skin is a little too tan. He’s tall and built. He’s like your quintessential California surfer-dude-turned-wrestler. Austin smiles at me, his teeth blindingly white against his tanned skin.

“Good night, yeah?” he asks with a grin.

I nod, not quite in the mood for a conversation. The siren call of my bed is getting stronger. “Yeah, pretty good night.”

“You looked amazing out there. That dress was gorgeous.”

It feels like he’s trying to flirt, and I don’t want him to. I always say that I don’t have a type, and while I don’t have a very deep romantic past, the few guys I’ve dated haven’t all fallen under one category. It’s all about vibes, right? With that said, Austin is not my type.

There’s something about him that I don’t feel like I’m vibingwith. Or maybe I’m not giving him enough of a chance. I should be gentler with him.

“Thank you,” I say, looking down at my shoes.

Before either of us can utter another word, another body enters the elevator. I’m overwhelmed by the scent of a familiar cologne and a presence that I can sense like some phantom is watching me.

“This is cozy,” Theo says as he wheels his bag into the elevator. He forces his body between mine and Austin’s, standing between us like he’s chaperoning the eighth-grade dance. “Austin, give Roo a break. It’s been a long night.” I cringe at the nickname. Theo isn’t fazed. “So, what floor is everyone on?”

“Four,” I say, not making eye contact. We just work together. I don’t have to like him. We’re not buddies. This elevator ride doesn’t need awkward small talk.

“Same,” Austin answers.

“Mm, I don’t think that’s right, Slater. If I recall, you’re on the fifth floor with me.”

“No, I’m pretty sure I’m on the fourth floor. My room number is four hundred twenty—”

“—Fifth floor it is,” Theo says as he presses the numbered buttons. Floors four and five light up with a faint yellow light.

It’s the most uncomfortable elevator ride of my life. The door chimes open on the fourth floor, and I breathe a sigh of relief at my chance for escape. “Goodnight,” I say politely to the two men before I wheel my bag out and head toward my room.

And then I realize that I’m not walking alone. The cologne signals the presence of my own personal demon that’s hellbent on terrorizing me. Closing my eyes, I stop walking and take the deepest breath that I can.

“This is the fourth floor. Did you forget how to count—or read, Theo?” I ask.

I don’t even have to see his face to know that he has that annoying shit-eating grin on his lips.

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