And by now, I was fucking sure that I still wanted Rory.
I pulled on a pair of jeans and a tee, grimacing as I stretched to get the shirt on. My ribs hurt like hell, and I could see bruises forming on my abdomen as I got dressed. Must’ve been from the fight a few days ago, not long before the family dinner.
The events of that evening replayed in my head, and I closed my eyes. Some jackass had tried to force a girl into his car in the parking lot outside one of our bars. Thank fuck I’d been outside getting a breath of fresh air to see what had transpired, and I’d managed to get the guy off her back and beat the living shit out of him like he deserved.
After that, I’d realized the girl was out of her mind drunk, but something seemed off, so I’d waited with her until an ambulance came and the paramedics took her to the hospital. I’d made them swear to call once they got some news, and my suspicions had been confirmed just yesterday.
The woman was fine now, and safely at home, but they’d found Rohypnol in her blood. She’d been roofied. Roofied at seven fucking P.M. on a Tuesday night. Sadly, a situation like that one wasn’t uncommon these days—I was just glad I’d been there for her. Otherwise, fuck knows what could’ve happened.
Still, I worried I’d made a horrible impression, rocking up at the family dinner right after my fight with the guy, who’d now been taken into police custody.
Jesus, I’d walked into the restaurant like a fucking savage with blood on my clothes. Remembering Adelina’s—sorry, Mrs. Villanueva’s—non-impressed look and sharp words, I cringed inwardly. I couldn’t blame her for that. I’d looked like a fucking serial killer.
Dammit.
Even though I knew I could never have Rory, I still wanted her and her family to like me. Being liked was something I didn’t give a fuck about in regards to most people, but with the Villanueva ladies, it seemed important for my Dad’s sake.
As I thought about them, a nagging feeling returned to the back of my head, warning me about Anna. While I liked Rory and even her spunky grandma, Anna gave me a weird vibe, like she was up to no good.
Probably just a gut feeling that should be ignored.
I locked the door and instinctively checked Rory’s room before heading to the elevator, but it seemed quiet, so I figured she’d left as well. Somehow, that bothered me. I preferred to think of her as safely enclosed in her room...only a door away from mine. Sometimes, a hotel could be a dangerous place, even with all the security staff.
I punched the ground floor button in the elevator, leaning against the wall with a sigh as canned Christmas music began to play from the speakers inside it. Here I was, with a new stepmom, new step-grandma and a new stepsister, just in time for the holidays.
Too bad the only thing I wanted from Santa was Rory in my bed, moaning and digging her nails into my back as I slid my cock into her pussy.
Merry-fucking-Christmas.
Chapter Six
Rory
The last few weeks had passed rather quickly and uneventfully, mostly due to the fact that I hadn’t had any more run-ins with Finn. He usually got up late in the day and worked till the early hours of the morning, seeing as his main job involved managing Helvetica, the nightclub in the lower east wing of the hotel. I’d settled back into my old routine of getting up early, going to work at the startup and then returning to my new home in the hotel at around five, and I was almost always in bed and sound asleep by ten.#p#分页标题#e#
Yep, our vastly differing schedules were a blessing. No more awkward hallway encounters for me.
Today, I had the morning off work, and I was taking my Grandma to a doctor for a physical. She couldn’t drive herself, seeing as her eyes were absolutely terrible without glasses. Even though she wore her glasses all the time, the DMV had still insisted that she was no longer allowed a driver’s license, so it was up to either Mom or me to ferry her around.
She’d been complaining of headaches a lot lately, and I was worried it might be something serious, which was the reason behind the physical. She was convinced that she was fine, and she hadn’t wanted to see a doctor at all, but I’d told her that if she honestly thought she was fine, then there was no harm in getting a checkup just to confirm that for peace of mind. She’d grudgingly accepted that, and we’d just arrived at the hospital where our old family GP, Dr. Cummings, now worked.
“Where did you say his new office is again?” she asked, squinting at a sign.
“Fifth floor,” I said. “The elevators are just over there.”
She huffed. “You know I don’t like elevators. So cramped and smelly, and they always break down.”