Page 120 of Choices

The motel is one story with a reception sign leading to a small glass box and a row of rooms with blue doors numbered one to five. The flashing light glows with the name Hello Motel with the “o” in “hello” blacked out.

That has to be deliberate. Whoever owns or runs this place has a sick sense of humor. We’re going to fit right in.

“Should we be worried?” Kitty asks, shoving her hands in the back pockets of her jeans.

“Depends. Who picked the place, Monster or Rogue?” I tease, gripping Kitty’s shirt and tugging her toward me. Her arms wrap around my waist, and she rests her head against my chest, enveloping me in her scent. Damn, hours apart have felt like months. I don’t know how I’ve been living with small stolen moments until now. I’m never letting her go again.

Monster’s feet crunch over the gravel toward reception, returning a couple of minutes later with two keys.

“Only two rooms available.” He raises a brow, holding the keys from his fingertips.

Snatching one out of his hand with the number four etched into it, I say, “Bagsy,” and drag Kitty toward the room.

“That’s bullshit, and I hate you,” Rogue calls out to my back.

“You know I’ll have to share with Rogue.” Kit chuckles, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she shoves me through the door.

“I want privacy to talk first.”And fuck.

“Just talk?” Kitty teases, reading my damn mind.

I palm her ass, my cock throbbing at the look she’s giving me. Her eyes glass over, simmering with lust, and her skin blushes a beautiful deep pink.

Closing the door, I flick on the light and stare at the tiny room. There’s a bed, a bathtub, and a toilet all out in the open, not separated by a wall or anything else, with about four feet of space between the front door and the edge of the bathtub.

“What are we doing here again?” I ask.

“Picking up something for the wedding.” Kitty shrugs, hooking her fingers into the waistband of my jeans. “I can’t believe we’re standing here together right now,” she muses, a flash of pain eclipsing the lust from moments before.

“I’m so sorry about what happened. She didn’t take the news of us splitting well.” I stroke the back of my fingers down her cheek. Hating the tears she’s shed there because of all this shit.

“I can understand that much.” She drops her eyes to her boots.

I brace my hands on her shoulders and dip my knees, trying to draw her eyes. “It’s so fucking different between me and you, Kit,” I breathe. “I have so much I need to explain.”

Raising her eyes to mine she says, “In the car, you said you haven’t slept with her to get her pregnant two months ago. How long has it been?”

This is going to blow her mind.

“You’re going to want to sit down,” I tell her, guiding her a few feet to the bed covered in a yellow, flowery duvet. The space is small, but it smells and looks clean. The floor has a beige carpet that divides into cream tiles for the bathroom section. It’s not the perfect place for this discussion, but at least we have some privacy and reprieve.

“You’re making me nervous, Cutter. I don’t think I can take any more surprises.” She nibbles on a hangnail.

“I told you about what happened with Nicolas and Claire and then Claire witnessing me killing him. Well, what I didn’t tell you is Pres was ready to get rid of Claire.”

She bites her lip, nodding. “It’s horrible but doesn’t shock me.”

Of course it doesn’t. Kit knows our life. She lives it.

“Well before he could make a decision, she told him she was pregnant with my kid.”

“So, you saved her twice without knowing it.” Her body jerks like the thought causes physical pain.

“That’s the thing, though, Kit. I’d never been near her, but she’d been so desperate, I lied for her.”

“Wait—” she stutters, getting to her feet almost knocking me on my ass. “What do you mean you were never with her? As in, never fucked her?” A million expressions filter over her face.

“No, I’ve never fucked her in my life.” There it is. The truth at last.

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