Page 72 of False God

A sigh heaves my chest when I realize I have no other option.

My hand drops at the sound of a loud thud.

Lili is scowling at one of her suitcases. She sighs, then starts to twist and shimmy, trying to reach the zipper of the dress she’s half wearing, which is bloody entertaining to watch.

Finally, she abandons her efforts and pins me with a pleading glare. “A little help?”

I groan as I get up, but I don’t really care. The sooner I go grab my stuff, the better. Then, I should shower. Maybe get a little more sleep.

The scent of her perfume hits, the closer I step. The same aroma my head is filled with, that the sheets I slept on smelled like.

It’s Chanel. I saw the glass bottle in the bathroom when I got up to take a piss last night. An oddly intimate thing to know about someone, exactly how they smell.

My knuckles drag along Lili’s spine as I slide the hidden zipper upward. I take my time, centimeter by centimeter, and I can tell Lili’s fighting the urge to squirm.

Goosebumps rise in reaction to my touch, and I wish she were still naked so I could see how far they spread.

I lean forward and kiss the vertebra at the very top of her spine as soon as the zipper’s set, swiping my tongue against her smooth skin. Some primitive part of me loves that she hasn’t showered yet. She smells like her fancy perfume. She also smells like sex. Likeme.

Lili’s exhale is shaky as she reaches for her phone and room key. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” I cross my arms, not missing how her gaze darts down to my crotch for one last peek.

“I’ll, uh … I’ll see you at the wedding.”

I nod.

She’s gone a few seconds later, the door shutting with a soft click.

I find my clothes in the mess on the floor and pull them on, patting the pockets to make sure I still have my phone and wallet. I toss the collection of condom wrappers and makea decent attempt at straightening the sheets before leaving the room and heading down the hallway.

I decide to skip the elevator and take the stairs instead. They’re just as fancy as the rest of this place—plush carpet and scrolling details on the handrail.

An older couple is standing at the front desk. I wait for them to wrap up their queries about what brand of soap the hotel uses, then inform the young man working that I’m here for my luggage.

He disappears into a back room, returning with my leather duffel bag, but not the canvas garment bag that contained my other suit.

I exhale, already having a frustrating feeling before he confirms that nothing else is stored back there but that he’ll check with the rest of the front-desk staff to locate the garment bag.

I take the duffel and head toward the elevators, slowing when I see Lili’s friend Tripp approaching from the opposite direction. He’s dressed casually in athletic shorts and a faded T-shirt, his eyebrows rising slightly when he takes in my suit and bag.

“Hey, Charles.”

“Morning.”

“Big day.”

I shift my weight between my feet, antsy to keep moving. “Yeah. I guess.”

He’s here because he cares about the couple getting married. I’m here because of my meddling grandmother.

“Wish we could head back to the track today. I’m on Theo about a trip to Monaco next week.”

“Monaco?”

“Yeah. We’re all headed to Saint-Tropez tomorrow. Weird idea to have a group honeymoon, if you ask me, but Chloe hasalways done things her own way. None of us have seen her much the past two years, so …”

I’llbe in Saint-Tropez next week. Not for an extended vacation with my friends, but to sell the villa. But I don’t mention that to Tripp.

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