“No, only my step-dad, who messaged me.”
“So, you don’t even know if she knows it was us,” I ramble. “She already hates me.”
“Don’t get yourself worked up. She treated you like shit last night. She deserved everything we did.”
I whimper. “What I did.”
He continues to laugh. “Stop worrying.”
I can’t help it. My heart is already pounding. I’ll never understand why I get like that when I’ve had a drink. My dad blames the red in my hair, and my mum blames it on the fact I’m a Carter.
“I’m never drinking again,” I complain.
His lips twitch. “Charlotte.”
“No, that’s a lie. I’ll definitely drink again but I’ll limit myself.”
“Charlotte—”
“Okay, that was a lie too,” I groan. “Once I’ve had one, I always want another, especially if it’s a fruity drink.”
“Charlotte, there’s someone behind you who wants to get past,” Drew blurts out, his lips struggling to stay firm.
I squeal, picturing every horror movie I have ever seen and spin around, clipping the tray the guy is holding in the process. Hot tea spills all down his shirt. “I’m so sorry.”
Drew pulls me back when I go to help. The waiter looks annoyed, but not angry. “It’s fine. Why don’t you take a seat and move out of the way?”
I nod, thinking that’s a perfect idea. “I really am sorry.”
Drew’s body shakes beside me. “You continue to surprise me.”
His family spot us, but it’s his mother I can’t look away from, her expression pinched, displeased. “Good of you two to join us.”
“Mother, you’re looking a little tired. Not much sleep?” Drew comments as he pulls the chair out for me.
I whimper when I take a seat, Drew following and taking the one beside me. I glance at his mum. She does look really tired. Drew’s step-dad sighs. “Please don’t get her started again.”
“Started again?” Grace squeals. “There was a dead body in our bed, Wesley. A body.”
“It wasn’t real, just as the manager confirmed. And the police.”
His mum turns to her son. “This hotel will not be getting a tip from us.”
“What happened?”
“We aren’t exactly sure,” Wesley replies.
His mother has no qualms about answering. “I’ll tell you what happened. This place is haunted, or they hire lowlife’s to make the beds. I nearly had a heart attack when I walked into our suite.”
“Because of the body?” Drew asks, and I feel more than see him struggling not to laugh.
I inwardly groan, wishing he’d drop the conversation. I already feel bad enough. Or at least, a tiny bit.
A waiter pours me a glass of orange juice and I swear I whimper at the sight of the yummy goodness.
“No, because the pictures were all over the place. The place was haunted, son. Haunted. Can you believe that?”
“Not really, no,” he replies, making me choke on the juice I had just taken a sip of.
Grace’s eyebrows shoot up. “It is. And that is not even the worse of what happened.”
“Is this about the dead body now?”
“No. Whoever they let into our room, stole our champagne. A nine-hundred-pound bottle.”
I gape, my eyes watering. Who pays that for a bottle of champagne? It was good, but not that good.
“Grace, let’s not bore them with the details,” Wesley orders.
“Bore them? Bore them?” She screeches. “I nearly died, Wesley.”
“Died?” I ask, speaking up for the first time.
Her lip curls at the sound of my voice, but she answers anyway. “My heart stopped when I saw the body. It took the paramedics to bring me back.”
“No, she didn’t,” Wesley comments, letting out an exasperated sigh. “She just had a scare and it brought on a panic attack of sorts.”
I whimper, tears gathering in my eyes. “That is awful. Who would do such a thing? I’m so sorry this has happened to you. Are you okay?”
Drew ducks his head, his shoulders shaking as he silently laughs. “Who would do such a thing?”
My cheeks heat when the answer hits me. “Oh no,” I whisper before kicking him under the table. I completely forgot for a moment. His amusement is not helping. “Grace, I’m so sorry you had a bad experience. Is there anything we can do?”
She’s taken off guard by my kindness. I can see it in the way she watches me warily.
It’s Wesley who answers. “She’s being overdramatic. It was a bunch of pillows wrapped in a spare bedsheet.”
Grace’s jaw tightens and her hand flies to her chest. “It took years off my life. I thought someone was well and truly dead in our bed, Wesley. How can you not care about that, or about the stress it caused me? I was scared to death. This hotel has a lot to answer for.”
My shoulders shake as I duck my head, covering up the tears that are flowing down my cheeks. I hadn’t meant for her to react so badly or be that scared. I don’t know what I was thinking.
And she nearly died.
“Sweetie, are you okay?” Wesley asks and I look up, wiping away the tears as I struggle to hold back my sobs.
When I notice his question is being addressed to me, my breath hitches. “I’m just so sorry that happened to you.”
“Are you making fun of my mother?” Natalie snidely demands, speaking up for the first time.
I sniffle. “No, I’m really not.”
Drew wraps his arm around the back of my chair, rubbing my shoulder blades. I freeze, visions of his teeth nipping me there clouding my mind.
He pumps hard inside of me, his teeth grazing my shoulder. “You want it harder?”
“Charlotte,” he calls out, shaking me from my thoughts and the dirty things he did to me after I said yes.
“Sorry, what?”
“You okay?” he asks, searching my gaze.
I nod. “Yeah,” I lie, then lean in close to him. “She’s really going to hate me if she finds out.”
“She won’t,” he whispers back. “It was just a little fun.”
For the rest of the breakfast, I stay silent yet watchful, making sure my actions haven’t completely traumatised his mother. Pranks aren’t for everyone.
By the time breakfast has finished, the manager has come over and assured us our breakfast isn’t being charged to our rooms, which is a good thing since the prices are extremely high. I could go shopping for a week’s worth of food for the amount they charge for a full English breakfast.
When it’s time to leave, it’s only Wesley, Alison and her fiancé who offer me a goodbye. I don’t take it to heart. I’m used to this kind of treatment.
We’re nearly back at my place, and the closer we get, the sicker I feel. There’s a heavy pit in my stomach and it rolls, the unease eating away at me.
Neither of us have brought up what happened last night, not what it meant or what it meant between us. It’s the elephant in the car that no one wants stamping all over them.
I don’t think I’ll be able to give him answers, even if he does question me. I’m not sure what it meant, I only know what it meant to me, and that was a great deal. He gave me something I never thought I’d get. But I’m not sure where we stand now and that kind of scares me. I like him. I like him a lot. I love our sessions, even if we have only had two, and I love talking to him. For someone larger than life, and for someone so young, he’s quite perceptive and has a lot of things to say. Things I enjoy hearing.