Page 108 of Sin With Me

A hand ghosts along my spine, and I jump, letting out a squeak. Isaac’s breath tickles the back of my neck and his touch gains pressure. Looking over my shoulder, I find a soft smile gracing his too-handsome face.

It makes me dizzy.

“You alright, sweetheart?” he chuckles.

I place a hand on my chest, breathing deeply. “You scared me.”

He kisses the side of my head. “We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” My mouth gapes open, and my brows dip. Who the hell is this man, and where is my stepfather? “Come on. Room’s ready.”

Unable to find any words, I simply nod and let him turn me toward the elevator. I expect his hand to disappear since we’re in public, but it doesn’t. To anyone else, we could be just any other couple here for a weekend away.

No one knows us.

We’re three-hundred miles from Divinity Falls. Neither of us have ever been to Savannah, and even if someone did recognize us, his touch could hardly be misinterpreted as anything but a friendly gesture.

To anyone except me.

To me, it feels like a brand. Red-hot and iron infused.

I have to choke back the permanence that settles deep in my bones at the thought.

The elevator dings, announcing our arrival to our floor, and I blink rapidly to focus, realizing I zoned out again. Isaac’s hand on my lower back guides me down a long, winding hallway. We stop in front of an unassuming door at the very end of it and for some reason, the sight of the soft grey wood makes my heart hammer in my chest.

One door.

Not two. Just one.

Isaac is calm. Completely unphased and unaware of the maelstrom of emotions battering around inside me.

His hand is steady as he slips a plastic keycard from his back pocket and scans it. His voice is soft as he guides me inside with a whispered, “Go on, sweetheart.” His touch is gentle when he slides his fingers down my spine in a barely-there gesture.

I swallow hard as I scan the wide open space, devouring every inch of the hotel room, burning all the tiny details into my brain forever.

The room is larger than I’d been expecting, and much nicer. A dark wood desk with the fanciest lamp I’ve ever seen sits in one corner, overlooking one of the many windows. A dresser in the same dark wood sits in front of the bed, a TV mounted to the wall above it.

I kick my sandals off, feeling the soft carpet beneath my feet as I move to the windows overlooking downtown. People bustle about, rushing to get to their jobs, or tourists looking for their next stop.

A two-seater couch and armchair are on the opposite side of the room, a small coffee table between them. Isaac sets our bags on the sofa casually, his focus solely on them.

I can’t believe he’s not looking around like I am. This has to be the nicest place either of us have ever stayed, yet he’s acting as if this is just another day. Like we’ve done this a million times before. Like we’ve stayed somewhere like this before.

It’s a beautiful place—clean and safe, and smells like fresh roses. I have the perfect view of the sun high in the sky, and I know tomorrow morning, when the sun is first rising, I’ll have the most breathtaking view of it, of the way it’ll bathe downtown Savannah in a soft glow.

But even in its beauty, the one thing I can’t get past is the bed.

Because there’s just one.

“One bed,” I breathe, running my sweaty palm across the creamy duvet.

Excited anticipation washes over me, replacing some of the nerves that’d been growing since he told me about our trip all those weeks ago. One bed. It has to mean something.

“I want to unpack before we head out,” he calls.

I spin to look at Isaac, watching as he sets about mindlessly straightening everything in that way I find so frustrating, yet charming. Content to watch him, I slowly sink onto the bed and run my fingers through my tangled curls.

After unpacking all his clothes, hanging the ones that’ll crease and tucking the rest in the dresser, he places his bag on the floor with a single-minded focus. Enthralled, I watch as he slips his lightweight jacket from his broad shoulders and hangs it on a hook, leaving him in a tight white t-shirt and dark jeans that fit him like a glove.

Jesus, he’s so hot.

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