Hotel Room Nights Ch. 02

I look up at the ceiling, feeling as hopeless as I did the day before. I feel like I was buried under a tonne of bricks then someone dropped a building on top of the carnage. My phone vibrates from under my body, and I lift myself up and reach for it with my hand. Someone is calling me.

"Steven" the screen reads. I press ignore, hoping he'll get the hint already. It's not my first time doing this today. It's been a long day and I don't want to add to the stress by talking to my ex.

I grab my still almost full bottle of expensive booze and pour into my cup, every movement feels painful.

I find myself looking down from the balcony again. I wish I could go down there and enjoy my life like everyone else. I allow myself to daydream about how good it would feel to be happy, mindlessly skipping down the streets with my friends. But every friendship doesn't feel genuine right now, most of the "friends" who care now haven't cared about me for a while, and I'm in no mood to be pitied. I'm jolted out of my thoughts.

"Hey," a voice shouts to me. It's Tyler, standing at the balcony of his room. I don't know who feels worse between us, but I hope he didn't get more bad news like I did.

I lift my cup to him and wave it a little, faking a smile. He smiles back and waves back and our interaction ends there. I let my mind drift off, to the events of last night. It was a better night than I expected, I met a few people and had mind-blowing sex with a hot dude. It felt good allowing myself to forget like that. Suddenly I feel the urge to go back to the roof.

"Hey," I call out to Tyler, he looks at me. He doesn't look very emotive now, it's like he's gone back to the very first version of himself that I met.

"Let's go up to the roof," I say. He makes a confused face. Like he didn't hear me. I point my finger up.

"The roof," I repeat. He looks like he doesn't want to go, making a dismissive face.

"I'm coming over there," I say, disappearing from his view before he gets a chance to reply. I strip off my tee and get some boxer briefs on before covering myself up with a robe. I leave and make my way to his door then knock and wait. This will never not be weird.

He shows up a whole two minutes later, dressed in a robe with his chest showing. I laugh at this, is he copying me on purpose. He ignores me and passes by me on his way to the elevator. I follow, and we end up waiting for the elevator to come up again, this time from the ground floor. It's not any less awkward.

"Went to the police station today," I say, breaking the ice as we wait. He looks at me with casual interest, "apparently the fire was an arson after all."

He raises his brows in surprise but doesn't say anything. What does one say after hearing that?

"You should've taken me with you," he finally says.

What?

"Didn't think you wanted to see me getting passive aggressively accused of setting my own house on fire," I say trying to dismiss his interest. He scoffs.

"Maybe then I wouldn't have found out my ex wife is five months pregnant," he says as we enter the now open elevator doors. How did he not know that she was pregnant if he had just left before he came here.

"You didn't know?"

He sighs, "no, I guess I didn't pay enough attention to the situation."

"You got any kids with her?"

He sighs again, "no, at some point I just ended up thinking she couldn't conceive. Then she gets pregnant as soon as she meets someone else?"

His breath is fast now and he's already getting worked up. I don't know what to think. Why hasn't he considered that it could be his body that was the problem?

I ask him, "it wasn't you then?"

He turns and looks at me, and his face drops.

His voice lowers, "she had a miscarriage a couple of years back."

Now nothing adds up. I put my hand on his shoulder and squeeze briefly as the doors open for us.

The ride to the roof is silent. I start to realize that maybe there's a few people up on the roof because they don't know what's up there. Sure "rooftops are fun" but I'm sure nobody goes to the "roof floor" expecting a pool and a jacuzzi and a whole bar. Then again why wouldn't anyone know there's a fucking pool in their hotel. Maybe if they rename it to "pool floor". "Pool floor", "entertainment floor", maybe, just not "roof floor". But that's my opinion.

The doors open and I step out and head towards the jacuzzi as he follows closely behind. The usual two guests are inside and their faces light up as we get closer. We reach the jacuzzi, greet them and take off our robes. This time we're exactly matching, just blue boxer briefs underneath the robes. I shake my head as what happened last night is being played on repeat, Hanna looks at Mark and enthusiastically slaps his shoulder. We get into the water and Mark calls us a cute couple again. I'm not enjoying the deja vu so I tell them they look like a cute couple too. Mark looks uncomfortable for a second, and I hope he gets the message.

I slowly let myself into the jacuzzi, taking my time getting one foot in, letting myself imagine that the water is boiling and I need to go slowly so I don't burn.

We get into the pool in our spot opposite to them.

I keep my shoulders and arms out of the pool, and tilt my head back to rest it in my hand, choosing to be an observer. But with Hanna present I figure everyone is an observer.

Hanna is talking about some vacation to South America she went on with her dead husband and everyone is just letting her talk, to fill the silence. She is almost under Mark's arm, sliding slowly into it. He doesn't try to stop her. Until I learn otherwise I'll always believe that Mark's dilemma is all his own doing.

My eyes connect with Mark's, he's staring at me, a devilish look just under the surface of his eyes. I look at him too, taking in as much of him as my eyes can. He has average length hair and is clean shaven. His brown eyes are telling me a story, a sexy story, so I don't pay attention. His chest is buff and his arms have a bit of muscle of them, giving the idea of someone who used to be really dedicated to his workout at some point. Before I realize I'm staring, there's rapid finger snapping in front of my face. I snap out of it and Tyler leans in to my ear, "you're staring," he whispers. Whatever.

I shrug the rude interruption off and get back to listening to Hanna's story. Mark chuckles, and for some reason Hanna is oblivious to all of this, never once stopping her tale, which is now about some kangaroos she saw in Australia. I take a sip every time she slides closer to Mark, and soon my plastic cup is empty. I throw it over my shoulder and try to pay attention to whatever is going on here.

"You need a refill?" she suddenly asks me. The way her story connects to the question almost makes me think she isn't talking to me, until I see her looking at me with waiting eyes.

I'm starting to feel like the drinks are more for her own entertainment than mine. I just shrug and she doesn't give me a chance to open my mouth, standing up and skipping over to the bar.

Not this situation again. Today I'm in no mood to talk, so I wait for someone else to open their mouth. Tyler goes first.

"Mark," he calls out. Mark turns his attention from me to Tyler and raises his brows.

"Why doesn't your girlfriend know that you're not into her like that?" he asks, almost demanding. Normally I wouldn't enjoy such a confrontation, but today I'd love to see if other people's drama can drown out my own. Mark doesn't know what to say, so we let him think until words have formed.

"Well I tried to tell her," he says almost whining. We both give him that look that says no you didn't.

"She gets a little bit, uh, ahead of herself sometimes and she didn't give me a chance to say yes to this getaway."

"You came though," Tyler says before I can. Marks exhales sharply.

"If only you knew."

"Gonna be a lot worse if you tell her after the hotel with a pool getaway don't you think?" I ask him. He nods in defeat, he knows he's trapped in a corner either way.

"I guess I'll find out soon enough, this is our last night here," he says.

I hear vibration from my robe on the floor behind me, and I just know it's Steven calling me again. Suddenly I need another drink and Hanna has been gone for hours. She comes skipping back with three glasses and a bottle, the usual. I hand Tyler my cup and take a glass, which she almost fills.

"What were you guys talking about?" she curiously asks, setting herself back into the water.

"Mark," Tyler says. She turns her body to Mark.

"Isn't he just a fuzzy peach," she says snuggling into him and squeezing his bicep.

"He sure is," I say. The level of discomfort coming from his body is through the roof.

I take a sip and set it above the pool beside me and get back to listening. The time passes and the stories get longer as the sips get longer. I feel bad that we're forcing Tyler to exercise such self control today, but my feelings of sorrow for myself overcome. I drunkenly turn my head to him and he looks so uncomfortable that I smile. I'm not that drunk but the drinks have definitely slowed down my movements and I'm sure he saw me. He doesn't say anything.

In no time it's time for Mark and Hanna to leave again. They say their final goodbyes and make their way towards the elevator. Now it's just me and Tyler again. I turn my body to him slowly, hoping that I don't appear as drunk as I actually am. I've downed almost two of those giant glasses Hanna gave us and also the one cup that I brought for myself so I'm definitely under the influence.

"Tyler," I say. "Yes," he replies.

"You sure know how to control yourself."

He lets out a dry laugh and just shrugs.

"It's good that you've decided to be a better person Tyler," I add. He doesn't react to this.

"I'm sure all your friends would be proud," I say. He sighs.

"Sure," he says, unsure.

"You don't think so?"

"No I don't think so," he replies.

"Well, then they shouldn't have been your fucking friends in the first place," I say. He laughs humorlessly, maybe at my unexpected use of profanity, maybe because he thinks I'm right, I don't know.

"When you enjoy being part of a team," he says, "you can lose sight of the lines between right and wrong as you try to fit in."

Very insightful. I didn't expect him to say something like that. It catches me off guard and I end up laughing.

"So profound Tyler," I say in-between laughs.

I wish my fucked up brain wanted to hear more about his horrible friends, but I'm too buzzed to pay attention to long stories. At least he has friends. But does he? If he really did I'm sure he wouldn't even be here right now.

"At least it didn't take you fifty years to realize that," I say. He just shrugs.

"God knows it took me way too long to realize that bad people don't truly change," I complain. I look at him, he's silent. Silence forms between us.

"You're not a bad person," I finally say, hoping what I'm saying is true. In my head I know there are people out there who think he's the worst person who has ever existed, but I allow myself to believe his story about his horrible friends. I wouldn't want to believe that I'm spending my time in the jacuzzi with the devil, so for now he's a good person. Then again, I'm no angel myself either.

"Thanks," he says faking a smile. I fake one back, and I know it's almost time to go. He starts moving, getting out of the pool and getting his robe on. I follow groggily. Trying to move in this condition is the worst, but I get the hang of it eventually. I get out of the pool and on my feet and move towards my robe. I bend down and grab it, but my head spins when I stand back up. He grabs my arm and keeps me steady. "Thanks," I say as I get my robe on and begin walking towards the elevator.

"Bit too much to drink today huh," I murmur to myself under my breath.

"Yep," he says. I ignore him as I press the button on the elevator.

It takes forever to come up, and I'm almost leaning my head against the doors when they open, causing me to lose my balance and stumble inside. I feel his hand gripping me by my shoulder, causing me not to dive head first into the wall. He puts his arm around my shoulders to keep me upright and I wrap mine around his waist.

"Another great save from Hayes," I say laughing. I can feel him vibrating a little, but the moment is ruined by a different sort of vibration coming from my pocket.

"Who keeps calling?" he asks. I'm so annoyed with Steven right now that his name comes out as more of a growl.

"He was unapologetic about dumping me but now he just wants to tell me he's here for me if I need a shoulder to cry on. I don't need his bullshit."

Steven had jumped from me to his new boyfriend in no time and hadn't given me any time whatsoever to process the situation. Just, I'm leaving you from someone else goodbye. I don't want to talk to him until I am sure I can keep my feelings in check.

My drunk mind is telling me that the time is now, so I retrieve my phone to give him a piece of my mind.

"What do you want Steven?!" I shout into the phone. The voice that replies me to is not Steven's.

"This is Tanner," he says. Even worse. Why does Detective Tanner think we're on such a casual basis? Why is it not Steven? He really doesn't care about me.

"What do you want Detective Tanner?" I say, correcting his casual tone with me.

"Can you come to the station tomorrow?" he says. No, I don't want to.

"Didn't get your rocks off accusing me of burning down my own house this morning?" I ask. His voice is just grating to me now.

"We have a few questions we'd like to ask if that's okay."

"Like if I burned down my own house? I already said no Detective Tanner."

"Look, just come to the station tomorrow," he says, voice chock full of attitude. His turn, I figure. What an asshole.

"Whatever Tanner," I say hanging up. I wonder if the people around him are looking at him right now, shocked by his professional misconduct. I hope he gets reprimanded, but of course that won't happen.

"Detective Tanner?" Tyler asks. I almost forgot he's here, even though he's actually holding me up.

"Some asshole cop working my case. Lovely character," I sarcastically say.

"We'll see him tomorrow then," he says. For a second I don't notice he's invited himself on my trip. I laugh when I do.

"I guess we will."

By this time we're at my door. I get my keycard and open my door. His arm is still around my shoulders as he lets himself into the room, walking with me until I'm by my bed. I take my robe off and get onto the bed, waiting for him to get out so I can remove my wet underwear.

"See you in the morning," I say, basically chasing him away from my room.

He takes a few steps back and says nothing for a moment.

"See ya," he says turning around and leaving.

"Good night," I say behind him as he closes the door.

Now I'm drunk and alone. My body is limp but my mind is still wide awake. I take off my wet underwear and try to sleep, but my mind won't let me, choosing instead to wander.

First I think about Mark and his avoidable predicament. His story has huge gaps that he hasn't filled out yet. Maybe he's scared of Hanna, that would explain a few things. But he looks like he can defend himself against an army, so would he really be scared of one middle aged woman? I don't think so. Maybe she knows something about him that he thinks she's holding over his head? Makes more sense. But their relationship looks mutually friendly. Maybe they're both just extremely weird people. That makes the most sense so I go with it. I wonder if he's coming to my room again tonight, I don't think I have any energy to entertain him today so I hope he doesn't, though I'll admit thinking about what we did last night sends a jolt of electricity passing through my body, energizing just the right part.

I try to think about something else. Like how Tyler's story also doesn't add up. If neither him nor his wife has any fertility problem, why didn't they just have kids like he wanted. Maybe not having kids with him was what she wanted. She doesn't sound like a witch, so he must've really pushed her that far. Kids are easy to make but an enormous responsibility, so I guess it's best having them with someone you're a hundred percent sure you want in your life for a while. Clearly, for her, it's not Tyler. She's probably engaged by now.

I'm awaken from my thoughts by a knock on the door. I'm not in the mood for visitors. They knock again, and now my minds can't focus.

"Come in," I complain, dragging my voice. Fuck. They can't open the door without a keycard, and I'm in no mood to walk all the way to the door. They knock again. Fuck me.

I finally get out of my bed and drag my naked body across the room to the door. I would've gotten dressed if my body was functional and my mind could tell me where my clothes were. I open the door with one hand and cover my junk with my wet underwear with the other.

It's Mark. Fucking Mark again, standing there in all his handsomeness, smiling at me. He's wearing shorts now, and a loose shirt.

"Mark," I mutter, "what do you want?"

"I came to say goodbye," he says letting himself in.

"I'm so tired Mark," I complain, pushing the door and going back to my bed. He follows. I drop into my bed face up and naked, I know that's how he wants to see me.

"Don't worry," he says, coming closer towards me. I didn't expect that we'd be doing this, but I know my body will react the exact opposite way to how I want it too. He unbuttons his shirt and takes his shorts off, revealing his hard body to me and matching my nudity.

"You don't have to do much," he finishes as he drops to his knees beside the bed. He put one hand on my chest and caresses me while the other moves to my balls. He massages them slowly.

"Come on man," I whine. I don't want to fall asleep before we get to the good part. He moves his hand to grab my hark dick, jerking me off while he caresses my chest. I let out low moans in time with his slow movements. The man knows how to press the right buttons.

His moves his face to mine and kisses me for a moment, then moves his head down my body and puts my dick into his mouth. His movements are deliberately slow, like he's savoring every single inch of my hardness.

"Where's Hanna?" my mouth asks. My stupid mouth is going to ruin the moment. He lets my dick fall out of his mouth and speaks.

"Sleeping," he says before moving his lips back to my cock. Thank God. I plead with my mouth to just keep quiet and let me enjoy some hot sex with a hot dude.

"Does she know she's paying for you to have hot sex with some hot young dude?"

Stupid fucking mouth. I bite my lip so that it doesn't say anything else. He laughs into my dick before he stops blowing me again.

"You think you're hot huh?" he asks, before resuming his duties, sucking me off and jerking himself off. I laugh weakly.

"You wouldn't be here if I wasn't," I say before biting my lip again. He just laughs and ignores me, choosing to just continue his slow torture on my dick. He slowly takes his hand from his cock to my lips. This is a much better alternative than biting my lip. I move my tongue around his fingers, licking them as a way of keeping myself quiet. He removes his mouth from my cock, stands up and moves his body to right above my head so that all I can see is his thick throbbing cock. He lowers himself into my mouth and immediately moans when the head makes contact with my tongue.

I take him in, trying my best to make my drunk body act accordingly, to make him enjoy it. I turn my head in his direction so I can take more of his length into my mouth, and so he can feel free to fuck my face. I moan into his cock and stop moving, my drunk body already tired. He takes the reins, grabbing my chin with one hand and putting the other in my hair in a tight grip for balance.