“It’s fine, Bri. Come on in.” I back away from the door, giving her space to enter. She steps over the threshold with hesitance, dragging her oversized luggage behind her. We’re only going to be away for two nights. What the hell did she pack?
“Holy shit, your house. It’s like, a bachelor pad on crack.”
“Thanks?”
I’ll admit I went a little crazy when I bought this house. I was young and making a stupid amount of money. There’s an east and west wing—two separate living spaces separated by a huge patio in between with upper and lower decks, perfect for parties. The glass walls allow for incredible views over the city and the infinity pool all but hangs over the hill.
The five-car garage is what sold me, in addition to the space being my own private sanctuary. I love this home. It’s entirely too big for me, but as a guy with an approximate fuckton of money, what else am I supposed to do but buy but homes and cars?
Bria wanders around my living room and to the back wall where she looks over the Hollywood hills.
“This view is incredible.”
“You should see the sunset.” She presses her fingertips to the glass with hesitance, leaning in. “I’ll be right back.”
I walk to my room to grab my bag and when I come back out, she’s outside on the patio. I step out of the open door and walk over to where she’s leaning on the railing.
“You should get a dog.”
“Why?”
“You’re all alone in this big, sterile house. It barely seems lived in. A dog would liven it up.”
“I’ve always wanted a dog, but I’ve been too busy to get one. I used to never be home, traveling all the time. It wouldn’t be fair to the mutt.”
She nods and runs her hand over the glass barrier. She’s mesmerized by my home, my things, but that’s all they are. They’re things and it’s just a house and I’m just a normal guy. I understand the allure; most people don’t live with this level of extravagance. I didn’t grow up with it and sometimes I forget how lucky I am.
“You ready to go?” She nods and I grab our bags, leading her out of my house and to my garage.
“Holy shit.”
I grimace. I don’t like to drive the flashy cars around, but I still like to have them.
“Over here.” I point to the Jeep and throw our things in the back before taking the top off. “You don’t mind, do you?” A huge smile pulls at her face and she shakes her head. I’m glad she’s not one of those girls, freaking out about her hair with the roof down.
We pull out onto the highway but I have to make a quick stop to get gas and snacks for the road. Bria comes in with me and grabs a water and bag of trail mix, which she tries to pay for, but I don’t let her.
When we hop back into the Jeep, she busts up laughing with how much food I bought.
“We’re going to be driving for like, five hours, not five days.”
“You can’t go on a road trip without sour gummy bears, that’s rule number one.”
“What about the beef jerky, sunflower seeds, pretzels, chocolate, and almonds? Are those rules two through six?” She laughs and I love hearing the musical lilt.
“Don’t come crying to me when you’re hungry in three hours.”
We drive away and she reaches for the radio. She hooks her Bluetooth up to my stereo and I’m afraid of what she’ll put on. You can tell a lot about a person from their taste in music and I’m praying she doesn’t listen to some of the crap poisoning the Top 100 charts these days.
Luckily, she puts on some old school Blink182 and sings along. No complaints on my end, especially since she doesn’t have a bad voice.
Throughout the drive, I catch her staring at me. Her eyes keep trailing from my face and down my arm, studying my tattoos. A few times her fingers reach out, wanting to trail over the patterns, but she stops herself and I wish she wouldn’t.
After a while, I can see her starting to get restless. She curls and uncurls her legs from underneath her. She can’t keep to one song and instead keeps switching them up. Her fingers tap on the side panel in an agitated beat.
I don’t know what she’s nervous about, but I want to get her mind off of it. I want to reach over, to rest my hand on her thigh and see if she’s okay, but I don’t want to push my luck.
Plus, she’s wearing a pair of her fucking athletic shorts and if I reach over I might try to rip them off of her.
“Would you rather have penises for fingers or ball sacks for toes?”
She laughs. Mission accomplished. “Where do you come up with this stuff?” I shrug. “Balls for feet for sure. You can cover those up.”
“Your turn. Ask me anything.”
She wiggles her fingers in the traditional evil motion as if she’s plotting against me. “Would you rather have your sex tape get leaked or be a naked sportscaster?”
I bark out a laugh. “Shit. Sportscaster. They can’t make my junk hang out, right? That’s gotta be illegal.”
“Fair point.”
We go back and forth for a while with the questions becoming increasingly weird. I thought she calmed down, but a little while later her leg starts shaking all over again.
“Are you okay?”
“Can you stop somewhere? I really have to pee.” I pull into the next rest stop. We only have about two more hours’ worth of driving before we get to the hotel.
Bria hops out of the Jeep and stretches. Her t-shirt rides up, exposing a strip of her toned and tan stomach. I can’t help but stare. She’s so fit and tiny. I could pick her up with one palm and fuck her against the wall.
Shit. No. I can’t do that.
I get out of the vehicle and refill the tank while she runs inside to use the restroom. After the tank is full and we’re back on the road, I notice her leg bouncing again and she fidgets with everything she can get her hands on.
“What’s wrong, Bria?”
She bites her lip and runs her hands up and down her thighs.
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit. You’ve been a nervous wreck since you got in this car. Spill it.”
Her fingers tap along to the beat of a Taking Back Sunday song. She won’t look over at me and I push her to tell me what’s wrong.
“Fine. Where, uh, where will we, I, be sleeping?”
“I booked you your own room, Bria.” She sighs in relief. “But mine is always open if you don’t want to sleep alone.”
Chapter Nineteen
Bria
“This room is nice. You didn’t have to book me something this extravagant. I could’ve slept on a twin or cot or sofa or something.”
“Or in my bed.”
My face heats and he smirks. If he keeps making those comments I’m going to follow through and call his bluff. Then what will he do?
I kind of want to find out.
“Well, uh, thank you.”
He nods. I feel like I’m pushing him out of my room, but I saw a Jacuzzi tub in the bathroom I’m dying to try out.
“I’m right upstairs if you need me. Room eleven-twenty-seven. Do you want me to write it down? I wouldn’t want you to forget it if you got lonely tonight.”
“Shut up. You’ll be the one banging on my door in the middle of the night.”