Hotel Ruby (16 page)

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Authors: Suzanne Young

BOOK: Hotel Ruby
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“You didn't have to be so mean,” I say when we get out into the crowded lobby. The light filtering in through the windows is blinding at first, setting the room in a haze. Little specks of dust float around us. When my eyes adjust, the people are gone, leaving just me and Daniel in the large room. Confused, I glance around before my brother is talking again.

“Does he think he can erase what he's done?” my brother asks. “That we'll just forget after a movie? No. How stupid does he think we are?”

“He doesn't think we're stupid,” I tell him. “He's probably having second thoughts about Grandma Nell's. I mean, wouldn't you after spending more time with us? We're kind of awesome.” I smile, trying to lighten Daniel's mood. I know it's naive, but part of me wants to believe that my father really can change.

My brother scratches his head, right where I thought I saw the crack, and I look away. For all its grandeur, the hotel lobby has taken on an eerie quality. Where did everybody go?

“Look,” Daniel says apologetically. “I'm not ready to forgive him, okay? But you and me”—he waggles his finger between us—“we're okay. Always.”

“Forever,”
I say in a spooky voice, imitating our dad's strange statement earlier. Daniel laughs, pushing my shoulder like he's mad at me for cheering him up.

“It's fucking
Poltergeist
up in here,” he says with a grin. He exhales heavily and glances back at the elevator. “I'm going to grab a shower,” he says. “And I'm sorry, but you're going to have to count me out on that movie date. I'm not in the mood.”

“I get it,” I say. “Although . . .” This is probably not the time, but I can't stop myself. “Are you going out with Catherine?”

He nods. “Yeah. Why?”

Is he already defensive? I keep talking anyway. “Well,” I say, “she kind of sucks, Daniel.” I hold up my hand, counting off the reasons why on my fingers. One: “She's rude to me, borderline threatening.” Two: “Joshua—the valet—actually said that she stabbed him in the gut—like with a knife. And I'm not sure he was joking.” I hold up a third finger. “And she's Elias's ex. He says she has a bad temper and that you should be careful.”

Daniel is so still for a moment that I think he didn't hear me. But then I notice the anger welling up, and I swallow down any more reasons I was about to give.

“That's awfully convenient, don't you think, Aud?” he asks. “The guys are the ones saying this about her.”

I laugh off the beginning of his argument. “Sure, Daniel. She's the toast of the Ruby and everyone's in love with her. Or,” I allow sarcastically, “she's a whack job who's going to murder-suicide you in a jealous rage before we check out. Sleep with one eye open.”

“You don't know her like I do,” he says, ignoring my joke. “She's not that person anymore. None of us are the same anymore, Audrey. Things change.”

“What?” I curl my lip. “You're starting to sound like Dad. Look, how do you know she's not just—”

Daniel puts his hands on my upper arms, bending so he can look me in the eyes. “Stop worrying about me,” he says. There's a sharp pain—rejection. Even though he
doesn't say it, he's telling me I'm not Mom. He must notice the hurt in my face, because he forces a smile. “Besides,” he adds, “I can handle myself in a catfight if I need to.”

I groan and brush his hands away. He's not going to listen to me about Catherine, and I guess it doesn't really matter. Tomorrow, Daniel and I will be on our way to our grandmother's.
Or back to Phoenix,
I think hopefully.

“Fine,” I tell him with an exhale. “Do what you want. I'm going to wander for a while. But if you change your mind about the movie—”

“I won't,” Daniel says quickly. He winces and rubs at his scalp. “Plus my head is still killing me,” he mumbles. “I'll see you later.” Partly dazed, he turns to leave. I watch him walk away, looking unsteady as he gets into the elevator.

The hallway is wide, with gold-framed pictures, quiet and still. Peaceful. I pause in front of a picture labeled
THE HOTEL RUBY
, 1936. There, in black and white, is a wide shot of the building itself. Possibly more impressive than it is now, if only because of its age. Standing in front is a crowd of people, well dressed and smiling. Are they the stockholders who helped erect this place? I lean closer, trying to find one who might look a bit like Elias, a peek into his past.

“Now it just looks like I'm stalking you.”

I jump, and laugh when I find Elias resting his shoulder against the patterned wallpaper a few feet away. “Are you?”
I ask. He shrugs, admitting that maybe he is. He holds up a rose, and I'm ten shades of flattered as I take it and smell it. Light and powdery. Utterly charming.

Elias smiles, and it's the strangest thing—I know we're both embarrassed, shy, about our almost kiss in his room, but I don't think either of us plans to stop meeting like this. With my heart thumping, I go to stand next to him against the wall.

“How are you today?” he asks. “I was absolutely miserable after you left last night.”

“I'm sure,” I say teasingly. “If it helps, I had a nice chat with Catherine in the elevator, so I think I beat you out for biggest buzz kill.”

“Ah, yes. You win.” His glance drifts past me, and it's clear that he doesn't want to talk about Catherine. I'm glad we can agree.

“I've actually had a terrible day,” I tell him, still trying to process what happened at lunch. “I think I'm having a bad reaction to drinking, or to searching for ghosts, or”—I smile—“to staying up with strange boys until dawn.”

Rather than laugh, Elias shifts in concern. “What sort of reaction?”

I wave my hand to let him know I'm not taking it too seriously, or at least, that's what I want him to think. “Cracked skulls, blood, the usual,” I say, immediately filling with unease at the memory.
It wasn't real,
I tell myself.
Daniel was fine just a second later
.

Elias widens his eyes at the gory details, and I quickly change the subject. “So I have nothing to do,” I say, twisting the flower nervously between my fingers. “Planned to spend the day exploring. Would you . . .” I tilt my head, waiting for him to agree before I have to ask.

“Like to sneak around with you?” he offers.

We've both inched forward, and the warmth of his body radiates to mine. I smile my response, totally crazy about him. Addicted to our attraction.

“You're giving me that look again,” he warns, his gaze lingering at my lips. “I hope that means I've convinced you my intentions are mostly honorable.”

“Mostly?” I smile. “I'm leaving tomorrow. I can handle mostly.”

“That's good, I suppose. But the truth is”—his body comes maddeningly close to mine—“if we keep at this, I'm not sure I'll want to let you go in twenty-four hours.”

“It's more like twenty-three,” I whisper, grinning as he leans in and slides his palm over my cheek.

“Yes, then we should start now,” he murmurs. Elias presses his lips to mine, and I melt into him. The heat of his mouth, the feel of his arm as it wraps around my waist, pulling me closer. I part my lips and his tongue touches mine, a soft sound escapes my throat.

My mind spins, and I knot my fingers in Elias's hair. He growls out his approval, but then he pulls back and glances behind me. Before I can look to see if anyone is there, he
takes my hand and pulls me down the hall, backing me into a small alcove between rooms and kissing me again, harder, more passionately. My entire body has caught fire, and I'm not even thinking when I slip my hand under his shirt to feel his skin. Elias curses, and then we're moving again, farther into the recesses of the hotel. The hall has gotten darker, but every few feet we end up kissing, breathing heavily like we can't get enough of each other.

“We should go to your room,” I say into our kiss. Elias shakes his head and then trails his mouth along my jaw; his tongue tickles my neck.

“They'll find us there,” he murmurs.

“My room, then,” I say. My thoughts are swirling, nearly lost in my desire. I want him; want to remember what it's like to
feel
.

Elias pulls back, his face close to mine. His cheeks are flush, and I think then that he's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, wild and sexy. He clenches his jaw, setting it at sharp angles, looking me over like he wants to devour me. I want to be devoured.

“Elias,” I plead, grabbing his shirt to draw him to me once again. He kisses me but then stops and buries his face in my hair instead. “I can't go to your room,” he says miserably. His body crushes me against the wall, but I like it. I like everything about him.

“Christ, Audrey,” he says painfully. “You're making me crazy.”

“Me?” I laugh, running my fingers over the back of his neck. His heart is pounding against mine, and it takes a moment for me to realize we're still in the hallway. Although it's darker, it's certainly not private. I furrow my brow, stunned that I would lose myself so completely. In fact, now that I think about it . . .

I put my hands on Elias's shoulders, gently pushing him back. My rose is gone, a causality of the hottest kiss ever. Elias seems to realize just how out of control we were and runs his hand through his hair, flashing me a sheepish smile. I take a second to make sure my clothes are still on after basically attacking him. Or did he attack me?

“This is seriously going to affect my day,” he says, and then laughs. “Maybe even my week.”

“Yeah,” I agree, rubbing my lips together. They feel swollen, sore in a way that makes me want to kiss him all over again. I'm invigorated. Alive. “Those twenty-three hours just got a whole lot shorter,” I say.

Elias's smile fades, a touch of sadness seeping in. I hate the mood shift, and I step forward to drape my arms over his shoulders. I get on my tiptoes and kiss him quickly on the lips.

“Let's go to the café,” I say, and kiss him again. “Do something respectable with our afternoon.”

“Why?” He tries to deepen the kiss, but I laugh and back out of his arms. I'm charmed when he grabs my hand and brings it to his lips, kissing it, before sliding
his fingers between mine. “Fine,” he says with a dramatic sigh. “We'll go, but I'm going to be thinking about that kiss the entire time.”

“I'm glad I made an impression.”

He hums out an agreement, and we start down the hallway, back to civilization. I expect Elias to drop my hand before anyone notices, but he doesn't. He only squeezes it tighter.

We're all hormones as we sit at a small table on the back patio, gazing stupidly at each other. Elias keeps hold of my hand, sliding his fingers along mine, teasing me with the sensuality of how he's touching me.

“I don't want you to leave,” he says, smiling sadly. He reaches for his white porcelain cup and sips his coffee. “But I know you don't belong here.”

“Oh?” I ask, part flattered and part lonely at the thought of not belonging. “Maybe you don't belong here,” I suggest, looking down at our intertwined hands. “I hear my grandmother's attic is nice.”

Elias laughs and lifts my hand to kiss my fingers once more before letting them go. I wrap my hands around my glass, missing Elias's warmth. I told him about how much I'm dreading going to my grandmother's. How I won't know anyone but Daniel.

“I'd take you away from that house,” Elias says quietly, staring into his cup. “I'd take you anywhere you wanted
to go, Audrey.” He lifts his head, sympathy darkening his expression. “I'd be your family.”

There's a puncture in my heart as Elias zeroes in on everything I've wanted to hear for the last three months.

“We'll run away together,” I joke, although neither of us is smiling anymore. “I'm thinking California would be nice.”

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