Page 7 of Sweet Virgin

The runaway virgin was a target, no one would want to have their name slandered alongside my face. It could ruin whatever life they had created for themselves.

That was the last thing I wanted.

Tapping into the altered and watered down version of my past, I took a deep breath and answered. “On the west coast. How about you?” I wanted the focus off of who I had been and replaced with anything else at all.

It would be easier for me to listen than to give. I hadn't figured out what I wanted to share if it ever came up and I had only really planned on staying hidden, not thrown into the arms of a man.

“I'm from a little bit of everywhere. I moved around a lot as a kid and it kinda stuck with me. New places, new things, it keeps life colorful.”

He had just stolen a piece of my heart. I always wanted to travel, always wanted to taste new and see the unseen. He was living the life I wanted, the dream of freedom in the best form.

“That's awesome, I never did much traveling until recently. I always wanted to, it just never worked out that way until now.”

Be careful, be careful.

“I could give you a tour if you'd like. I've been coming here for years, I know a thing or two about this place.”

Tilting my head up, I smiled. “I'd like that.” Rounding the corner, I stopped outside my hotel. “Here we are.” Cupping my hands in front of my waist, I rocked on my heels.

“What room are you?”

Scanning the top row of doors, I held my hand above my eyes and squinted. “Uh. . . The one on the—wait. . . What are they—”

The door to my room was open, the cleaning lady's cart of items were parked in the entrance. But she wasn't just cleaning it, she was emptying it out.

“You've got to be kidding me!” Running up the stairs, I flew down the open corridor to my room. “Wait! What are you doing? Why is my stuff outside?”

A short woman wearing a light purple dress and bright yellow gloves popped her head out the door. “Excuse me?”

“This is my room, what are you doing?” Standing with my hands out, my mouth hung open.

“I'm sorry Miss, you'll have to go to the office and talk to the manager.”

“But this is my room, you can't remove my stuff.” Shock coated my expression as confusion rattled my brain.

What the hell is going on?

“I'm only doing my job, please, head down to the office and talk to the manager. You'll have to talk to her.” Flipping her finger up and pointing, she nodded her head down the stairs.

Grumbling to myself, I lifted my bag off the ground and turned to walk away. I wanted to say more, I was ready to give her holy hell for what she was doing. But it wasn't her fault and I knew that. She had orders to follow, I couldn't get angry at her for that.

I tried to convince myself there had to be some sort of mistake. Maybe I was being moved to another room, maybe there was an issue with the one I had. There were so many possibilities that could happen; leaky pipes, new paint, new carpet, anything.

“I don't know what's going on here.” Brushing past Kealen, I headed towards the office. That was the last thing I needed. To see my room, my home for the next week, being vacated without a valid reason had blindsided me. I paid for the room, I deserved some notification of any changes they might throw at me.

I could hear his feet behind me, his heavy steps matching mine. Looking over my shoulder, Kealen was following right behind me. “What are you doing?”

“I'm coming with you.”

“You don't have to do that, I'll figure out what's going on.”

“And if you don't, you'll need another option.”

Option? Something was going on with my room, that was all this was. I didn't need another option. They couldn't kick me out.

“Alright, you can come if you want, but I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for this.”

Walking into the office, the woman behind the desk stood there gleaming with a smile. “Hello, welcome to Waterford, do you have a reservation?”