BEYOND

CHAPTER 31: CALL IT A WASH

'But hold your breath

Because tonight will be the night that I will fall for you

Over again

Don't make me change my mind.'

*ALTHEA'S POV*

October 30, 2023.

"We do have many clients indeed, and... that's why we only have one room left."

The credit card slipped from my hand upon these words, though I doubted the loud thump echoing around was from its fall on the carpet floor, and I didn't check actually, instead holding the counter with a too-tight grip as I asked,

"With t-two beds or maybe a couch?"

"No, only a double bed, and unfortunately, we used all our spare beds for some large families," the receptionist replied with another sympathetic smile, which didn't help me swallow his answer, nor did the discount he offered.

The problem was still the same: one bed, Asher and I, a late hour making it impossible to go home tonight, the two previous hotels we'd passed already displaying 'full' on their front door, and although Charlotte's foster parents had offered us to stay at their house, we couldn't impose on them when they already welcomed half of their family for the night.

Thus, there was only one possible answer.

"I can sleep on the floor," Asher suggested, letting me guess the distress brewing in my insides was showing outside, even under all the colors covering me.

Just like not even the strain at the left corner of his mouth could stop the grin spreading until his eyes when I announced,

"No, it's fine. We can both sleep in the bed. Double is large enough, and we're both adults."

Besides, it wasn't the first time we shared a bed, and I was reminded of all these times as soon as I glimpsed the bed.

Well, there was nothing special or particularly familiar about the bed, nor its simple white sheets, the small round table surrounded by two chairs, the pale taupe walls, the carpet with flower print... But they were enough to bring back too many memories, especially when I crossed Asher's devious gaze.

"Gotta warn you if you still take the left side, my left arm has involuntary reflexes at night."

"I can take any side. It's like you want," I replied, the words sounding perfectly innocent in my head, yet the second they landed under his lifted eyebrow, they turned into more flashbacks, which I quickly tried to shake away. "Anyway, shouldn't we worry about the bathroom first, before we make a mess on the white sheets? With the colors I mean..."

Did every word twist on my tongue, or was it his green eyes spinning them?

It seemed like an egg or chicken question as the conversation continued.

"You go first?"

"Why me? Isn't it ladies first always?"

"Because you're dirtier." In more ways than one, and hopefully, the water would wash away the dirty thoughts I glimpsed in his clear gaze at the same time as the colors. "You're covered in more powder than me."

"And whose fault is it? You were two 'gainst me. Four hands against one." He narrowed his eyes at me, although it didn't dim the twinkle of mischief shining there, brighter than all the yellow and red covering his face. "How's that fair?"

"Because you never miss your aim." I gestured down my body, as if the orange stains didn't call enough attention, his attention.

"It's easy when you know your target by heart." He shrugged, pushing the wheel of his chair towards the bathroom, and if I could blame the narrow space for his hand grazing my legs as he passed me by, I couldn't say the same for his gaze, whose brush was more intent, trailing up and down every inch of my silhouette like an artist admiring his latest painting.

I could even catch the same proud sparkle in the green shades before he disappeared behind the sliding door of the bathroom, completely ignoring my offer to help if he needed anything.

"I can handle," he assured, and it was what I told myself too as I stared at the bed before me, inhaling a deep waft of air, which was already pervaded in his musky scent.

It was only one night, a few hours, where we would both be sleeping, or at least, trying to. It wouldn't be much different from the day, except we would be lying and... Did he still sleep naked?

No, no. I quickly shook the flashbacks away from my head, focusing on the change of white pajamas the hotel had provided especially for the festival.

Asher may have been devious sometimes—most of the time—but he was always respectful, and I didn't doubt him one second, not even with the involuntary movements of his arm.

As for myself, I could—

I couldn't even take another breath when a familiar trail of curse words echoed from the bathroom, too quickly followed by a loud thud. Loud enough to drown out my worries about Asher's nakedness as I rushed through the bathroom door, almost crashing into his empty wheelchair.

All I saw was his standing figure, the fragile balance of his left shoulder leaning against the outside of the shower stall, which looked ready to give out, and only once I'd slipped my arm around his back, did I notice his open shirt and the surge of fiery tingles sparking from the contact of his bare skin until my face.

Even so, it didn't last long, since he jumped away as soon as I asked,

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. S'just that stupid soap dish that gave out." He nodded towards the shower stall, as his right hand was busy grasping the edge of the sink to support himself.

At least, it was one of the advantages of the narrow space: everything was within hand-reach to hold, although none of the pieces of furniture around looked solid enough to counterbalance the negative points I took one by one as my gaze traveled around the four cream walls... The height of the toilet, the curb of the shower cubicle, the confined space of the shower that couldn't fit a wheelchair, not even a normal chair—if they ever had been something else than the two plush seats in the bedroom—and the angled assist bar under the two-high valve.