Page 44 of Stuck With the Best Man

The woman, whose name tag readsMartha,glances at the computer and frowns. “Unfortunately, we only have one room left.”

Dread pools in my gut. I turn to Ruby, knowing that there’s defeat in her gaze. The thought of getting back into the car and braving the storm for the sake of hunting down another possible place to spend the night is so daunting that I’m tempted to start crying. Maybe if a grown man bursts into tears in front of her, Martha might just let us sleep out here in the lobby.

However, Ruby turns to Martha and forces a smile. “That’ll be fine.”

I blink in surprise, certain that Ruby would rather camp outside than share a room with me, but she must be as tired and desperate as I am.

“Alright,” she replies, clicking away. “One non-smoking room with a king bed—”

“Aking bed?” Ruby interrupts.

Martha glances over at her, then flicks her eyes between us. “Yes, ma’am.”

It occurs to me that she thinks we’re a couple. Of course she does. I try to ignore the slight heat rising to my cheeks.

“No. We’re not—we can’t—” Ruby stutters.

“Would it be possible to get a cot brought to the room?” I cut in.

“Yes, of course.”

Ruby meets my gaze. I offer her what feels like a slightly awkward smile. She struggles to return it, and instead focuses back on Martha.

That was close.

“Here you go,” Martha says to us, sliding a pair of keycards across the desk. “It’s the third door down the hall on your left: room 4-B. Give me just ten minutes and I’ll have the cot brought down to you.”

We thank her and then turn back toward the glass doors, staring out at the wild gale tearing through the world beyond.

“You stay dry,” I say. “I’ll go get our bags.”

“There’s no need to be chivalrous.”

“There’s also no need to be stubborn.”

She glares at me. I glare right back.

When I turn to exit without another word, she follows after me. I grumble a curse under my breath, but it’s not like I can force her to wait in the lobby.

It takes only a minute for us to collect our respective suitcases from the backseat of the car, but by the time we set foot back in the brightly lit lobby, we are both soaked to the bone. We do our best to wipe our feet on the mats, but they’re already thoroughly dampened by the other hotel guests who came in from the storm. Our shoes squeak loudly on the tile as we scurry toward our room.

Ourroom.

Ruby is beautiful and infuriating and fascinating—and, frankly, everything I could ask for in a potential partner with all her fierceness and ambition—but I never imagined I’d ever engage in something as intimate as sleeping in the same room as her. Not this soon… or at all.

Because, like she said, a relationship between us is an utter impossibility. It doesn’t matter that she’s painfully pretty or that I love the sound of her laughter. It doesn’t matter that I wish I could build a time machine to redo all my mistakes eleven months ago.

It simply doesn’t matter.

All I have left is one night with her, and then everything will go back to the way it was before the wedding. I’ll only see Ruby from afar when she’s pirouetting across the stage.

Ruby uses her keycard to unlock the door, then shoulders it open and marches across the threshold with an exhale of relief.

Inside, the room is shabby but clean enough. The decor hails from at least twenty years ago and the air conditioner is whining a little too loudly from the far wall, but it’s better than being in the car.

As promised, there is only one bed. I sink down on the edge of it and try to regain a sense of reality after so many long hours stuck in the car. I can’t believe we traveled for half a day and ended up right back in the state of Massachusetts.

The ancient digital clock on the bedside table informs me that it’s ten thirty.

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