Page 18 of Lovers Fate

“This place doesn’t look like it accepts credit cards.”

“I know, but it’s what the owners want.”

I snort. “Who’s the owner?”

“Some rich asshole who doesn’t live far and still makes money.”

I lean on the counter and give him my best smile. “What’s your name?”

“Um, Simon,” he says nervously.

“Simon,” I repeat slowly and lick my lips. “Here’s the thing. I need a room, and I don’t have a credit card. Is there anything you can do?”

“I can’t.” He points at the computer screen like it’s a villain. “To secure the room, I need a credit card.”

When I pull a hundred-dollar bill from my bra, his eyes widen. “I’ll give you this if you make it happen,” I tell him, holding a Benjamin between two fingers and lowering my voice. “It will be our little secret, Simon.”

It feels like I’m negotiating with a ten-year-old to do my math homework, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“Oh.” He glances at the screen, then at me, before launching into a furious typing spree. He pulls out his wallet and slides out a credit card. I smile the whole time and wait to hand him the money in exchange for a key.

“Room 203,” he says, grabbing the hundred bucks. “I’ll need one of these every day until you get a credit card.” He holds the bill up to the light to make sure it isn’t a fake.

It’s less than the going rate for this shithole. Simon likely does not care about stealing from the wealthy individual who owns the establishment despite the fact that I received a discount.

Simon continues typing. The door opens, and a loud voice booms across the room, causing Simon to stiffen. “What’s up, Cherry Prick?”

I look over my shoulder. A guy with sandy-brown hair and a medium build walks in. He looks like he’s in college—possibly in Randy’s class. He walks toward the counter with two other guys about the same age. They’re all wearing black jeans, like some sort of uniform, and they belong to a club.

“What do you want now, Zack?” Simon says, annoyed, pressing the sticky note that fell off his screen.

I’m guessing they come in here often and give Simon shit. Every town has a nerd and a bully. In this case, bullies.

“We came to check on you, Cherry Prick,” Zack says, leaning on the opposite side of the counter. “Have you seen pussy yet, or are you still afraid it will bite your cock?”

I roll my eyes, wanting to leave with my key. Zack glances at me and then at Simon. “Are you holding out on me, Cherry Prick?” Zack taunts with a Southern accent.

“Come on, Simon, I gotta go,” I tell him impatiently, gesturing with my fingers for the key.

Simon looks down and resumes typing.

“Was I talking to you?” Zack glares at me, then looks back at his two other sidekicks, and I notice the Stockbridge University logo embroidered on the right pocket of their white T-shirts. Zack is the only one wearing a plain black one.

When he opens his mouth, his attractiveness quickly fades away. You almost want to wipe away that stupid, sarcastic grin he wears. The other two simply follow him and wait until he gives them permission to speak. They even mimic the way Zack stands. It’s pathetic.

The fluorescent lights start to flicker. “I need the key to my room,” I tell Zack in a stern tone. “You can have a bromance with Simon after I leave since you’re so worried about whether he gets pussy or not. I know it’s your competition, but don’t worry, it’s not like that between me and Simon.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, making a feeble attempt to accentuate his muscles. “How is it between you and Simon?” His blue eyes are giving me a once-over.

Something scrapes the counter, drawing my attention as Simon slides me the key. Thankfully, he had pocketed the money before Zack and his friends came inside, so it looks like I’m just checking in.

I pocket the key. “Not the kind of party you’re hoping for, Zack. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“I can show you a party,” he says quietly with a curl of his lip. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

I chuckle sarcastically, step close, and lower my voice before walking out. “I’m not into the little things.”

“I can guarantee you that there is nothing little,” Zack says crudely. He skims his crotch with one hand, making me cringe.

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