Page 35 of Slots & Sticks
That earns a smile from both of us, the first easy one in hours.
“I’m sure Skinbad will appreciate your sacrifices. Want to look up hotels near Reno and pick one for tonight? I can spring for two rooms.”
“You don’t have to do that.” Dot opens her phone to a reservation app. “I’m spending Dante’s money, remember? He gave me more than enough to book a couple of roo—good lord, why are these so expensive?”
Mira takes this as her cue to butt in. “This weekend is the annual furry convention. Many hotels are already booked.”
“Furries?” I repeat.
“Some people experience sexual preferences for—”
“I know what furries are,” I interrupt. “I didn’t realize they had a convention.”
“They have several throughout the continental US, the largest of which is Furry Weekend Atlanta, followed by Anthrocon—”
“We don’t need to know the details, Mira. Can you please help us find a hotel with two rooms for tonight? Ideally, within a fifteen-mile radius of the Humane Society?”
“Let me look.”
I’m not worried. We’ve got hours to search. We’ll find something decent, make it through tomorrow, and get our hands on Dot’s new dog. We’ve already had enough excitementthis trip, thank you very much. By rights, it should be smooth sailing from here.
The desert rolls out black and endless ahead of us. Dot’s fallen quiet, chin tilted toward the window, eyelashes catching the glow from passing signs. Mira lowers her voice to a whisper, giving ETA updates like bedtime stories. I keep one hand on the wheel, one ready near her knee, not touching—just close. The road hums beneath us, steady and sure. For the first time all day, she looks peaceful.
And I realize I don’t want the night to end.
Chapter Eight
Dot
Camden stands frozen in the door of the room I reserved. Mira had warned me that there was only one room available. The listing had forewarned me that there would be only one bed.
Nobody could have prepared me for the theme, however.
“Is this…” Camden closes his mouth. Clears his throat. Tries again. “Is this a love hotel?”
“It certainly looks like it,” I agree.
Camden inspects a bowl full of condoms. They’re available in a wide range of sizes, textures, and flavors. “Right. So why are there so many bears?”
The wildlife motifisa little over the top. The heart-shaped bed, covered in red and black silk sheets, sports a faux bearskin throw. Two of the throw pillows are covered in brown shag. The chandelier above us is made from antlers, and both the flooring and wallpaper are textured to look like wood, while the ceiling is painted to look like a cloudy sky. I’m not sure why. Are we supposed to pretend that we live in a cabin without a roof? The wood-paneled walls are covered in paintings and prints of various animals, including a high volume of bears, as well as pheasants, bobcats, and bald eagles. No less than five dishes of condoms are scattered throughout the room.
“I think it’s supposed to be rustic but sexy. Cabin glam.” I peek into the bathroom, where the outdoorsy theme continues. There are three hand pumps on the counter, labeledSoap, Sanitizers,andLube.Yikes.
“At least it’s clean, so we’re not—oh, dear God!”
I pop back out of the bathroom. “What?”
Camden points up at the mounted deer head over the bed. “Do you think that’s real?”
I shudder. “Maybe we should ask for a refund?”
After a long moment, Camden shakes his head. “No, it’s fine. I can sleep on the floor.”
I make an incredulous gesture to the ground. “Why?”
In answer, Camden makes a similar gesture toward the bed.
I huff. “I admit that it’s tacky, but we slept on the sofa the other night. This is no big deal.”
