Page 139 of Things I Wish I Said
I chuckle because Sinclair on a good day is gorgeous, but Sinclair tired and pretending not to be is fucking adorable. “I have a better idea.” I pull her into my arms, just in front of the glass doors and stare down at her.
“Oh?”
“Why don’t we check in, get all our stuff sorted in our room, and then . . .” I press a kiss to her forehead.
“The anticipation is killing me.”
Grinning, I dip my mouth to her ear. I graze my lips over her skin, and she shivers. “We can order room service,” I whisper.
“Damn. You really know how to seduce a girl.”
I chuckle under my breath and press another kiss to her face, this time her cheek.
“You really wouldn’t mind? I mean, it’s our first day. I feel like we should go out.”
I squeeze her a little tighter. As long as she’s here in my arms I know she’s okay. “We’ll go out tomorrow, spend all day and night out, and every other day while we’re here, if you want. But we endured more than six hours of travel starting at the ass crack of dawn, then several more in the sun, and you’re beat. I’m beat,” I add when she opens her mouth to argue, because it’s the truth, and because I know she’d rally if I wanted her to. “And I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than have a shower”?I press another kiss to her forehead?“and crawl into bed.” Her cheeks flush and I fight a grin as I deliver a soft peck to her even softer lips. “Order some food and eat while we watch a movie.” One more kiss, and then I press my forehead to hers. “Sound good?”
“God, I love your brain.”
I laugh, but inside, my heart is pounding at the way the word love electrifies my blood.
“Come on then, sugar mama. Check us in.”
Ryleigh tips her head back and laughs, a full-on belly laugh I can’t get enough of as I open the door for her, and she steps inside.
The interior of the hotel is lavish with crystal chandeliers dripping from the ceilings, a gleaming marble floor, and a plush seating area decked out in jewel tones. It’s the kind of placeI’m used to from years of vacations with my folks, but I don’t mention anything about cost to Ryleigh, since I already know how it will go, though I am curious how she bankrolled this trip. I know for a fact her mother doesn’t make enough to fly first class and stay at luxury hotels or pay for home-plate tickets at Dodger Stadium. Not to mention the debt she’s already in following Ry’s treatments.
We step up to the counter and Ryleigh offers the receptionist her ID and bank card, while I feel like an asshole for letting her pay for everything. After she gives us two room cards and a rundown of all the extra services available to us, she retrieves our luggage, and we head in the direction of the elevators.
“Our room is on the second floor,” Ry says as I swoop in and steal her bags from her. “Grayson, you can’t wheel two bags plus my carry-on.”
“Watch me.” I wink.
She rolls her eyes, then leads the way.
The ride to the second floor is a short one, the walk to our room even shorter.
She swipes the key card, and the door opens with a mechanicalclick. Both of us step inside, and Ryleigh flicks the light on.
The room is massive. There’s a cozy living space in neutral tones, a sofa, entertainment unit, desk, mini bar, and a nice view separating the bedroom from the rest of the space.
I walk two steps behind, taking in the massive king-sized bed sitting in the middle of the space and swallow, once again remembering her comment at the ball field.
I’m not innocent. At eighteen, I’m far from a virgin. The only girl I’ve ever been with that meant anything was Rachel. Everyone else came after her and served as a pleasant distraction, a release from my grief. The prospect of being with Ryleigh scares the hell out of me. A lot of responsibility comes with being someone’s first, and potentially their last. I also don’t want to hurt her. Because I love her.
I glance over at her, realizing it’s true.
I fucking love her.
Ry Sinclair made me laugh again.
She made me realize that love is worth giving, even when it hurts. Maybe happy endingsarewhat you make of them.
“So, who gets first shower?” Ry asks, crossing the room and taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Her lips curve, and she cocks her head. “Or when you talked about showering, did you mean together?”
A flush of heat travels south as my heart thuds against my ribs.
Her tiger eyes tease as she stares back at me, glittering as if the idea of getting naked together doesn’t faze her one bit. It’s so different from her reaction when I teased her weeks ago, that day in her bathroom.
