Page 62 of One Time in Paris
The motel worker stepped back outside, holding the burned hair dryer in his hands. “Sorry about that, and I apologize about the mess. Probably need you to vacate the room, though, so we can get it all cleaned up.”
Isla lifted her brows. “Vacate? But there aren’t any other rooms?—”
“Sorry, ma’am. It’s just a motel policy after something like this. I’ll be back—gotta go get my manager.” The man shuffled off without a glance back.
Isla groaned and gave Aiden a helpless look. “I guess maybe I could ask Davy if I can crash with her. Maybe Kyle would let you sleep in his room?”
Aiden pinched the bridge of his nose. The last thing he wanted was to face Kyle right now. As much as he liked Elle’s younger brother, he was one more person, now, who knew something about him and Isla. This was starting to spiral out of his control.
“How far is Nashville from here?” Aiden asked.
Isla pulled out her mobile and opened Maps. “About seven hours.”
“So that would put us in around—what—six in the morning? If you want to come with me, of course.”
“You’re not seriously thinking of driving all night to Nashville, are you?”
Was he?
They could stop, of course, somewhere along the way. Get a proper hotel with separate rooms.
But the way he was feeling right now, he could see himself knocking on her door, unable to resist that temptation that had been choking him for the past week.
The temptation to fuck his best friend’s sister.
Goddammit.
Maybe that smoke alarm had been a blessing in disguise.
He released a slow breath and met Isla’s gaze. “I think that might be the best idea, yes. Elle and Quinn will probably be awake. Tara gets up early.” And once they were in Nashville, it would be easier to stay away from Isla. Quinn might be the only person as close to Callum as Aiden was. Which meant Quinn was the last person Aiden would want to know about Isla.
The disappointment in Isla’s eyes was clear. Her fingers curled tighter around the lapels of his jacket like she was holding herself back from arguing. From demanding he stop overthinking. Stop ruining this before they even had the chance to begin.
She nodded, then looked away. “If you don’t mind me sleeping in the passenger seat, yeah, I guess that works.” She chewed on her lower lip, looking toward the door Davy had gone into. “I really should talk to Davy, though.”
“I wouldn’t mind a shower before we go. It’s been a long day, and now we’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”
“Why don’t you go ahead back into the room? I’ll go talk to Davy, come back and pack, and then we’ll head out.”
Within thirty minutes, they were in the rental car, pulling out of the inn, the silence between them tense and thick.
“You can put some music on if you’d like,” Aiden said quietly, desperate to lighten the atmosphere. A seven-hour drive would be interminable like this.
Isla picked up her mobile and connected it to the car stereo, then turned on a quiet, mournful song. She set her phone into the side pocket of the door. “Are we going to talk about what happened back there?”
Maybe I should have just let the silence continue.
“What do you want to talk about?”
Isla released a frustrated groan. “I don’t know, Aiden. We were making out, for goodness’ sake. We can’t just ignore the fact that we’re clearly attracted to each other because it’s inconvenient.”
“I think we can,” he said in a flat tone.
“No, we can’t.”
He felt the weight of her glare.
“Yes, we can. To begin with, I’m English. I’d rather ride strapped to the bonnet of this car naked than talk about this sort of thing. You should know this about us, even if you’re some strange, American mutant version of us now.”
