Taming Arrogance (MalexMale) 《COMPLETE》

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"You can either sleep on the couch or in the second bed," Blake says to me when we step inside the penthouse suite.

My eyes sweep over the layout of this spectacular room, and I'm temporarily dazed by its splendor. Two beds sit at the very far right, both of them neatly made and equipped with fluffy comforters and an over-abundance of pillows. The carpet is white, red and black – a modern contrast to the white walls and black decorations.

Without addressing Blake's question, my feet continue to pad across the spacious suite. I glance inside the large bathroom and whistle under my breath. Everything in here is marble – everything from the countertops, to the floors, and even to the spacious Jacuzzi-style bathtub.

"How much does a room like this set you back a night?" I ask more to myself than to Blake.

"It's a company write-off," Blake explains. "But even so, it's reasonably priced. $600 a night."

That's reasonable? Shit, I'd hate to see the cost of something he finds unreasonably priced. For some reason, the fact that this joker makes so much money irritates me. There's no reason for it to, but it does.

I move away from the bathroom and glance at the mini-kitchen as I make my way to the living room. Despite it being small, it seems to come equipped with more accoutrements than my kitchen does at home. I plunk myself down on the black leather sofa and stare up at the huge plasma TV.

"Huh," I mumble under my breath. "Is this room booked yet for opening day of football?"

Blake follows me into the living room and leans against the doorframe. "What was that?"

"Nothing," I say, shaking my head. "And I'll take the couch."

"Oh. Right."

Blake's voice tapers off, and the smallest bit of disappointment shows in his expression. The second I blink, however, all traces of emotion vanish, and I'm left wondering if it was really there in the first place. It's probably just my over-tired brain working on only half a cylinder.

"We'll need to leave here tomorrow before nine," Blake says clearing his throat. "Our site visit is at ten. What do you want for breakfast?"

I yawn and start stretching out across the plush sofa. My eyelids are becoming heavier by the second, the mistress of sleep pulling me into her warm embrace.

"Tuna on wheat with a diet coke," I murmur sarcastically with half-closed eyes.

I think I see a smirk on Blake's face, but I can't be sure. He says something to me about food again, but my brain is checked out for the night. I feebly wave him off, silently indicating that whatever he wants to order is fine by me.

Blake lets out a soft chuckle, whispering one final thing to me before sleep takes over the reins completely.

"Goodnight, Callum. Sweet dreams."

~~~~

Blinding light wakes me up in a coat of sweat and a state of unbearable thirst. I thrash out of the comfort of my sleeping position, prying my eyes wide enough to find my way to the kitchen. I'm temporarily shaken at the fact that I'm no longer in my home but instead in some highfalutin hotel suite.

The soft carpet changes to cool tile beneath my feet. I welcome the change and begin digging through the cupboards in search of a cup. It takes only a minute before my impatience gets the best of me, and I move to the sink to turn on the faucet. I lower my head and begin to lap up the water like a dog on a hot summer's day. The coolness feels like ecstasy as it washes over my dry taste buds and down my raw throat.