Page 50 of Fight For Us
“Wow,” Olivia said as she pulled Alex in for a quick hug. “That sounds so fun. Maybe I can come, too.”
“Are you nuts?” Walt bellowed. “You two better get out of here. I paid good money for that room.” He crossed the space and physically pulled Oliva up from her chair. “You packed, young lady?”
“Umm, not exactly,” she said while hiding her laughter behind her palm.
“What? Get to it, then. My father narrowed his brows, about to give her a fatherly talking to until she stopped him. “Okay, okay. I’ll go pack.”
“What are you guys doing here anyway?” I asked.
“Alex wanted to grab his things,” my mom answered. “I remembered I have that emergency key Olivia gave me a whileback, so we stopped over before heading home. Alex, go grab what you need for the night, okay love?”
He listened, heading toward his room with Lilly in tow. The two of them were already so close. I loved it but it also scared the hell out of me. If anything were to happen between Olivia and me, anything… unpleasant, they’d be devastated.
My dad gave my shoulder a firm squeeze. “You lock it down tonight, son. Show her a good time.”
I groaned. “Dad, I really hope you’re not implying what I think you’re implying.”
“Well, I know it’s been a long time since you—you know—”
“Walter, dear Lord,” my mother scolded. “I think our son knows what he’s doing. He doesn’t need your pep talk.”
“How do you know, Val? Maybe he does.” They bickered back and forth for a minute until I interrupted.
“You realize I’m sitting right here and I’d very much like to avoid a conversation about my sex life, with my parents, while my new wife is right in the other room.” I grumbled again and finished the last sip of my coffee as Olivia reentered with a small suitcase.
I stood, offering to take it from her, but she insisted she wasfine. That damn word again.
“Have fun, you two,” my mother crooned. “Don’t worry about a thing! The kids are in good hands.” Olivia met my gaze with a grimace. She knew their track record, but as the kids came out laughing, Lilly carrying Alex’s bag in one hand and stuffed animals in the other, she shrugged.
We hugged them, thanked my parents, who said they’d already texted Olivia the hotel address, since they knew I “sucked” at phones.
Once they practically shoved us out the door, we both stood awkwardly, waiting for the other to speak. When we did, our questions spilled out at the same time.
“Should we—”
“Want to—”
I laughed. “You go.”
“I was going to ask if we should take your car?” Her ears were tinged with pink. Was she embarrassed?
“Sure, I can drive. Want to plug in the address on the GPS? You’re better at that than me.”
“You’re not wrong there. I bet you haven’t even used the GPS yet.”
“Haven’t had a reason to. I have a sophisticated navigation system right up here,” I said, pointing to my head.
“Right...” She hopped in the passenger seat and typed in the address as I stowed the bags. With one last peek toward the door, where I caught both my parents spying on us, I pulled out and onto the main road.
“This place is something,” Olivia said as she checked out our room. With a pinched expression on her face, she picked up a bottle of sparkling wine that was already chilling in a plastic icebucket and peeked at the label. “Where did your parents find this place?”
“No clue. Knowing them, they had a discount from AARP.” Goddamn, I should have thought to ask about the hotel. I’d bet this was my father’s doing. He was always looking to save a buck. My mother would never book a place like this.
Situated right next to a truck stop off the interstate, The Cozy Inn and Suites looked more like Bates Motel if it were abandoned for fifteen years. The lobby “concierge” spotted us wheeling our luggage onto the chipped tile floor and spent twenty minutes trying to sell us a time-share in Albuquerque. Once he admitted defeat, he handed us our key card along with a complimentary honeymoon gift bag. I peeked inside—it was mostly full of lube and sketchy twenty-four hour energy tablets.
“This place is a disaster.” I sniffed the air and covered my face with my palm. “And what in God’s name is that smell?”
“Yeah, it’s pretty bad.” Her eyes widened. “Wait, hand me that bag.”
