Junkie(23)
Thick greenery lined the circular drive and so did old-style street lanterns. At the entrance where he parked, the pavement was brick and led directly to large double glass doors that welcomed guests inside. Beyond them, I saw an indoor water fountain, which was also lit up with golden light.
The second Drew stopped, a valet attendant dressed in a crisp uniform came around to the driver’s side. I knew before he moved what he was going to say.
His hands loosely looped the lower portion of the steering wheel while his blond head leaned back against the headrest. Drew rolled his head to look at me. “You park while I check in?”
I laughed beneath my breath and felt my face crack into a wide smile.
He trusted me with his car.
He didn’t trust anyone with it but me.
“Duh,” I replied.
The heat of his palm radiated through my shirt when he slapped me on the chest before opening the door. “Hey, man.” He spoke to the valet, who was looking at the Mustang like it was a perfectly aged porterhouse steak. “We got this one, but thanks anyway.”
“It would be my pleasure to park your car to make the check-in process as easy as possible,” the man argued.
I chuckled at the way Drew tightened his body and planted his feet, like he was going to have to defend the honor of his precious Fastback. He’d throw a punch if he had to. I’d seen it before.
As amusing as it would be, I didn’t feel like getting in the middle of a fight tonight, and I didn’t feel like searching for another hotel. I got out and jogged around the hood to the valet. “This beauty is like a woman. Testy if you don’t know how to handle her just right,” I said smoothly.
Drew gave me a look, but I ignored him.
“I’ll pull her around and park it.” I pulled out a five-dollar bill and slapped it into the man’s hand before getting into the driver’s seat.
Drew opened up the passenger side, pushed the seat forward, and reached into the back to pull out his duffle and mine.
“You called my car a girl,” he intoned, glowering at me.
“I was thinking we could call her Nancy.” I replied, tongue-in-cheek.
“Shit,” he spat. “If this car was a girl, her name would be Brenda.”
I burst out laughing. “I see you’ve put some thought into this.”
He went back to glowering at me. It only made me smile wider.
“Don’t wreck my car,” Drew ordered and slung a bag over each shoulder.
“Careful with my baggage,” I warned him.
He let go, and it dropped behind him and made a thudding sound on the ground. “Oops.”
“Ass,” I cracked.
He beamed, clearly proud of himself, and shut the door before I could retort. I sat there until he bent over and picked up bag to lazily walk through the glass double doors.
I definitely didn’t notice the way his jeans hugged his ass.
It took me a few minutes to find a place to park the Fastback. I circled a couple times looking for a spot I thought would be good and finally got lucky when a car backed out of a spot right beneath a streetlight.
The entire lot was pretty secure and well lit, but I wasn’t taking any chances.
After I backed into the spot and glanced around to make sure there wasn’t anything lying around that would look enticing to any thieves I locked it up and pocketed the keys on my way inside. I didn’t have far to go because the spot I chose wasn’t only under direct lighting, but was also within sight of the front entrance.
The valet was at the podium when I passed by, so I stopped and faced him. “You work all night?”
He nodded. “Night shift.”
This was the first hotel I’d been to that had valets that worked twenty-four hours. “Sweet,” I said and pulled out forty bucks to slide across the top of the podium. “You mind keeping an extra eye on the Mustang over there?”
He glanced at it briefly before turning back to me. “Of course.”
“Thanks. It’s a beauty. Sometimes draws attention.”
He nodded like he understood. Maybe he did. I didn’t care. I just wanted to make sure Drew’s car wasn’t touched tonight.
“Thanks.” I clapped him on the back and started away.
“Don’t worry. Your boyfriend’s car will be just fine,” he called after me.
I stopped walking.
Boyfriend.
He thought Drew and I were together.
My stomach turned over and a warm, intense feeling gripped my chest. It felt a lot like possessiveness.
I began to turn around, to set the guy straight. Let him know he was wrong.
I wonder what he saw that made him think we’re together?
Probably the same thing the waitress saw earlier.
In a snap decision, I continued forward. Correcting his error no longer seemed that important. In fact, if I were totally honest with myself (for once), I liked the fact he thought we were together.