Rogue Legacy [DISCONTINUED]

6. Feverishly Hot

Mylo

I was about to be alone in a hotel room with one of the hottest guys I'd ever seen in my life.

No big deal, right?

Right.

I definitely wasn't objecting to this situation, but I had to stop for a moment to think to myself that this was kind of weird. Sharing a room or the backseat of a car with someone you hardly knew was fine—I had done that. But this wasn't a hook up (even if I wished it was). This was sharing a room with a stranger to cut costs while looking for a new place and also wanting to sue a scammer together. Not your everyday story. I didn't know him at all and he didn't know me, but we both didn't seem to have anyone else to ask for help.

To say that I was nervous around Lasha was an understatement. His presence made me lightheaded and flustered, and the feeling grew worse the longer we were together. But I didn't want him to leave either. It was strange, double-edged feeling. I tried to suppress it, but I was failing pretty badly.

When we stepped out of the elevator, I was so preoccupied with Lasha and his effect on me I'd already forgotten our room number. I hesitated in front of the sign on the wall that showed we'd need to go left for the rooms below 525, and right to the rooms up to 550.

"Left," Lasha helped me after a few seconds. "Our number is 513."

"Oh, uh, thanks," I stammered, extremely aware of how close Lasha was standing to me. It made me want to turn around, face him, and make some very poor life decisions right here in the hotel hallway. It may or may not involve scarring other hotel guests for life while we were going at it in public.

Instead, I shook the impulse off,  turned left and looked for room 513 while wondering what the hell was wrong with me. Being horny wasn't a crime, but being this horny for no apparent reason probably should be.

The right door was easily found, but the keyhole was a whole different story. It seems I hadn't only lost control of the blood flow to my cheeks, but also of my limbs. When I tried to open the door, the keys slipped through my fingers. In a flash, Lasha was beside me and caught them.

"Thanks. Great, uh, reflexes," I said.

I looked up at Lasha as he turned the key in the lock. His gaze was trained on my face. He gave the door a push, making it swing open. The look in his eyes made me shiver. We weren't here to hook up, and neither of us had even hinted at wanting to while we talked. So, why was there more sexual tension here than I'd ever had with an actual hookup? I was starting to feel like it wasn't one-sided either with the way Lasha continued standing so close to me and how he kept staring at me.

"Go ahead."

Lasha gestured for me to step inside the hotel room first. I did and took a quick look around. The room was quite basic, but clean. There were two beds with white bedding, a wooden desk near the window, and a lounge chair with an artsy-looking, arched floor lamp in the corner. I tossed my bag onto the bed closest to the window and took a seat. Lasha followed my example and sat opposite me on the other bed. I wished he hadn't. I wished he sat right next to me.

I grimaced and shook my head, as if that could shake the horny thoughts out. "Anyway, now that we're here, we should probably talk," I said. "About the scam."

"Of course," Lasha replied. "I have little experience dealing with law enforcement. But I suppose we would have to collect evidence and the cops need to get involved."

"Yeah... we need to press charges and hope they'll have time to address our case somewhere in the coming twenty years."

Lasha blinked. "It really takes that long?"