Page 161 of Heresy

I can almost feel the anger rolling off her.

Game, set and match.

Thoroughly enjoying this fight, I relax back in my seat for the rest of the drive.

Brinley

“You two will be staying in room 1407, one of our six luxury suites on the fourteenth floor. There are four separate bedrooms, two bathrooms, an excellent view of the city, and of course, all the amenities our hotel has to offer. I can walk you two up and show you around, if you’d like.”

I know I’m not imagining it. Not with the way she’s eyeing Shane like a woman who hasn’t eaten in days and he’s a slice of avocado toast or a lettuce wrap… Whatever happens to be low calorie and trendy these days.

Two of those amenities, I’m sure, are turndown service and a morning wake up call, courtesy ofher. And I don’t think she has plans on leaving the bedroom in between them.

The pretty blonde behind the large desk refuses to look my direction or acknowledge my existence.

Eyes only for Shane, she casually leans over the counter, not so much that it’s obvious, but enough that her cleavage is visible over the low neckline of an $1800 black dress I recognize as one I bought from the pretentious store Shane dragged me to before this trip.

The only difference is she’s a voluptuous size ten while I’m a two. And where her boobs are held high and shaped perfectly by the expert hand of some overpaid surgeon, mine are smaller and natural, not quite as firm and flashy.

Her makeup is on point, and I don’t know the first thing about all the different brushes or how to use blending sponges. Her height easily tops mine due to her three-inch heels while I’m wearing a worn-out pair of Converse, complete with sand still inside them from the lake Shane dragged me to.

In short, she’s a woman who wants to be seen while I’m just a bookworm who hides beneath clothes that are two sizes too big for her.

I’m not knocking her, though.

She’s gorgeous in her own right.

And that’s what’s driving me crazy.

She is the type of woman a man like Shane should be with.

Because she’s everything that’s opposite of me.

Introducing herself as Assistant Manager, Angela Morgan, she practically shoved the normal desk attendant out of the way to check us in. She claims it was because she could tell Shane was important clientele, and I call bullshit.

Dressed in a deep green button-down with the cuffs rolled up to his elbows and a pair of oil stained jeans that hide nothing of his physique, Shane wears his tattoos and bad attitude as an emblem, and he’s not the standard image you would imagine when thinking big money.

He’s a mechanic, through and through.

This woman didn’t know he has money. Not at first. She simply noticed he’s gorgeous.

Standing next to what, to her, is an overnight snack, I’ll be damned to be shoved aside.

Not anymore.

And definitely not by this bitch.

“We don’t need you to guide us,” I say, my voice as sweet as candy, despite lacking the Southern lilt of hers.

You would think growing up in Georgia, I would have been blessed with the standard Southern virtues, but I somehow missed the accent along the way. While my father’s accent is as thick as they come, my mother was from the West Coast and never adopted it. Despite losing her when I was young, I still speak much like her.

“I’m sure we can find the room.”

Her eyes don’t so much as flicker in my direction.

Dismissing me, she steps around the counter like a lion hunting a gazelle, her fingers snapping to summon the valets. For what, I’m not entirely sure.

Shane and I walked in with nothing but the clothes on our backs. Not a single backpack, duffle or shopping bag in tow.

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