I'm the Alpha's Crush

Chapter 60

"I wasn't bullied." Pausing, I inhaled sharply, voice shaking as I confessed, "I was the bully."

Malcolm's brow creased with confusion, "Wait - you?"

Hot pressure built behind my eyes, and I nodded.

Further inside the lobby, the attendant at the check-in desk greeted us and whatever questions burned on Malcolm's tongue simmered there for the moment.

Silent, I waited through the exchange, accepting my key when Malcolm handed it to me.

Looking back at the employee, he began, "So, we're on the top floor..."

She nodded, "Take a left when you leave the elevator, and then your room will be at the end of the hall."

"Thank you!" Gripping the handle of his rolling suitcase, Malcolm slid the key into his pocket and reached for my hand.

Numb, I twined my fingers with his, savoring the warmth of his touch as we walked toward the elevators.

The ride up must've lasted maybe thirty seconds - but they each stretched for an eternity.

On the top floor, we followed the woman's directions and soon Malcolm was trying to convince the lock to let us in.

Finally, I heard a muted mechanical "click" and the knob twisted in his hand, opening the door to reveal a rustic bedroom decorated with old, wooden furnishings, long gauzy drapes, and a geometrically patterned area rug laid over what were probably the original floorboards.

Malcolm stepped back, ushering me ahead of him. With a heavy heart, I dragged my suitcase beside me, leaving it next to the dresser.

Unsure of what to do, I sat down on the machine quilted coverlet, hopeless in the warm, golden light.

Closing the door behind him, Malcolm walked in, leaving his bag beside mine before walking into the bathroom. I heard the sink running and faint splashing noises.

"So," he began, "when does your sister want us at the venue?"

Stunned, I answered automatically, "I'll check."

Pulling out my phone, I messaged Evie, telling her that we'd checked into the hotel and asking about the itinerary.

In the other room, the water stopped, and Malcolm reappeared, pressing a towel against his face.

Tossing it aside, he walked to the bed, slumping backward onto it with a sigh.

The silence between us stretched to discomfort, fragile as spun glass.

I decided to break it.

"Are you going to ask me?"

"...about the bullying?"

What else?

Wordlessly, I nodded.

He cleared his throat, "I'll get around to it - still trying to wrap my mind around the idea."

"That's it?"

"Unless you want to tell me everything now?"

I shook my head. "Not really." Taking a breath, I folded my hands in my lap, "Just... I was deeply unhappy when I lived here - all the pressure, all the expectations. I guess some part of me felt like I could lessen my own misery if I forced it on other people."

"Understandable." Malcolm's voice was a quiet mutter behind me, "Not great, but... I can understand that reaction, at least."

Emotion tightened my throat, "I-"