Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 140523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 703(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 703(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
Instead of waiting in the lobby, I sat down outside on the stairs and tried not to think too much about Dylan and how my feelings for him were evolving from just a simple attraction. About an hour had passed when I saw a metallic blue truck coming my way. Quickly, I got up and ran toward it. As soon as my dad’s feet hit the ground, I threw myself into his arms and closed my eyes.
“Dad.”
His arms rounded my shoulders and he held on just as tight as I did, if not tighter.
“My little baby girl.”
My nose was already tingling. “I missed you,” I mumbled into his chest. “I missed you so much.”
His hand smoothed my hair down and he leaned back to look at my face.
“Zoe? What is this?”
His arms slowly dropped and he held my face in his palms, his thumbs wiping away my silent tears.
“Nothing,” I muttered after a pathetic sniffle, again pushing my head into his chest where I knew he would keep me safe.
I had no idea where the tears had come from—well, okay, I knew, but I hadn’t been planning on losing it so soon and worrying him. He sighed and burrowed closer, my body rocking with unexpected sobs as I realized how much I had missed him.
We heard a honk behind us, but I was reluctant to let him go, and thankfully, my dad showed no signs of hurrying. He kissed my forehead, brushed my tears away yet again, and nodded once he was sure I was holding it together.
“We’ll figure it all out together,” he murmured. Walking me back to the passenger side, he helped me up. When I was securely inside, he closed the door and jogged around the car. After lifting a hand in apology to the car behind us, he hopped in.
As I wiped my face with the back of my hand, my eyes caught on someone near the hotel door. He was leaning against one of the columns, arms crossed over his chest, his face unreadable from afar.
It was Dylan.
* * *
Around eleven thirty, my dad dropped me off back at the hotel and we had another tearful goodbye. He was spending the night at a different hotel—he didn’t want to come face to face with Mark—so we could spend a few more hours together the next day, but I didn’t want him to sit around and wait for me when I didn’t even know if I’d have any free time to sneak out.
My mind on anything but Miriam and Cash, I took the elevator all the way up to my room only to find the Do Not Disturb sign on the door handle. After the weird exchange with Dylan earlier, I’d completely forgotten to go back up to my room to get my laptop before meeting my dad. Instead of knocking on the door, I went back down to the lobby.
The whole place pretty much looked dead. Other than a few people hanging around the front desk and the occasional hotel guest stumbling in through the door, I was pretty much alone where I sat facing the front doors.
After sending a quick text to Miriam to let her know I was downstairs, I watched puppy videos on Instagram to kill some time.
Just as I was writing out a text to Kayla, another message popped up on my screen.
Dylan: I’m sorry.
I stared at the screen, not sure whether I should answer or not. Answering him meant I’d have to keep lying to him, but then again, it wasn’t like I could avoid him forever, or wanted to avoid him at all.
Dylan: I’m a complete asshole.
Dylan: Will you open your door if I knock?
My lips stretched into the biggest smile. No, I really didn’t want to avoid him at all.
Me: Didn’t you have a bed check at eleven?
Dylan: And?
Me: So aren’t you supposed to be in bed since it’s past eleven?
Dylan: Just because we have a curfew doesn’t mean we have to go to sleep at eleven.
Me: But it means you shouldn’t leave your room, right?
Dylan: It’s okay if you don’t want to see me Zoe. You can tell me.
My fingers hesitated. I hit myself in the forehead with the back of the phone a few times before I found the courage to type out what I wanted to say next.
Me: I’d love to see you Dylan. I always like seeing you.
Lame. Lame. Lame.
Dylan: :)
Dylan: Then open your door.
Did I tell him I was actually in the lobby because Miriam was getting busy in the room and risk him getting in trouble with Mark if he decided to come down?
Me: I don’t want you to get in trouble, and Miriam is here, too, so…
Dylan: Yeah. Okay, you’re right.
Dylan: It’s just weird knowing you’re here and not seeing you, I guess. I think I’m missing my roommate.