by Elia Winters
The guy behind the desk looked up as he saw them, putting his book down. “Hi.”
It wasn’t a very formal way to greet them, so he was probably the one who had picked up the phone earlier, the one who didn’t even give the name of the hotel.
“We’re checking in,” Scarlett said. “I called this morning.”
“Right. I remember you.” He was probably about their age, in his mid-twenties, maybe working his way through college or just trying to hang on to a summer job through the rest of the year so he could be near the beach when it mattered. He had long hair that looked like it had been bleached before growing out again, shaggy from not getting frequent cuts or just enjoying the surfer look. His name tag said “Jeremy” and his pink polo shirt advertised the Pink Sands Inn with black embroidery over the pocket. He slid a paper registration form across the counter, making a decision between the two of them and settling on Scarlett. “License and credit card, please.”
Megan produced the credit card from her wallet and set it on the counter while Scarlett filled out the sheet. “You know my license plate number?” Megan asked, sounding grudgingly impressed.
“Yeah.” Scarlett had double-checked it earlier. “So there’s really nobody else staying here?”
Jeremy laughed. “It’s winter. You try to book this in June, or even on spring break, and we’re sold out. We’re probably already sold out into the summer.”
That was a relief. At least the place wasn’t a disaster year-round.
He finished processing their paperwork and slid a pair of key cards across the desk. “You’re in room 103.” He waved at a display of brochures next to the front door, right beside one of those racks of twenty-five cent candy dispensers. “You can look through there for stuff to do if you want. All the local places are listed.” Megan was halfway over there before he added, “But most of it’s closed for the season.”
Megan turned with a sigh. “Then why did you point it out?”
Jeremy shrugged, unconcerned. “It’s part of my job.”
Scarlett took the key cards. She was kind of surprised they had key cards at all; this definitely seemed like the kind of place with actual keys on the little plastic diamond keychains. Scarlett bid goodbye to Jeremy and led Megan out to the car to grab their overnight bags.
The door swung open on a somewhat stale-smelling room, but one that was nonetheless clean. Scarlett flipped the light on and surveyed the space, which wasn’t nearly as bad as she’d expected, with one glaring exception.
“Oh.” Megan, who had stepped in behind her, stared at the one king-sized bed in the middle of the room. “That’s not right.”
“Nope.” Scarlett laughed, but her laughter masked a few other thoughts and feelings. “How do you feel about sharing?”
She was only half kidding, but Megan gave her a withering look, and that was all she needed to know. She took Megan’s key card back. “Let’s get this straightened out.”
Jeremy was back to reading his book again. Scarlett slid both key cards back across the desk, getting his attention.
He looked down, puzzled. “What’s the matter? Isn’t it clean?”
“We need two beds. Not one.” Scarlett glanced at Megan, who was nodding emphatically.
Jeremy turned red right away. “Oh, hell, I’m so sorry. I just thought...never mind.” He started typing in the computer. “There we go. Two queens. I’ll put you right next door in 104 so you don’t have to move your car.”
“Thanks.” Megan fairly snatched the proffered new key cards from him and led the way back to the new hotel room.
As soon as they were in the room, Megan set her sights on the bed farthest from the door and started piling her stuff on it.
“Wait a minute.” Scarlett put her hands on her hips. “Why do I get the murder bed?”
Megan paused halfway through unzipping her overnight bag. “The what?”
Scarlett patted the floral bedspread. “The murder bed. The bed closest to the door.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. No one’s going to murder you.” Megan finished unzipping her bag and started rummaging around in it. “There’s nobody in this town.”
“That’s not much comfort.” Scarlett wasn’t particularly bothered, even if she teased Megan about it. She was too excited to get into an actual bed and sleep.
Megan was more methodical about all of this, and Scarlett stopped to watch. First, she folded her pajamas—folded her pajamas—and set them down on the bureau. Then she put her overnight bag on the floor next to the bureau. Finally, she peeled back the comforter and all the sheets, and she leaned close to inspect the sides of the bed.
Eventually, Scarlett had to ask. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for bedbugs.” Megan straightened. “Don’t you check for bedbugs? The internet recommends it.”
“No.” Now that Megan mentioned it, Scarlett probably should.
“That seems like an oversight.” Megan had that obnoxious, all-knowing expression on her face.
Scarlett really hadn’t gotten enough sleep to have this conversation. “I don’t usually stay in places where there are bedbugs. And what about you? You’ve never stayed in a motel.”
“I’ve stayed in motels.”
“And besides! You already put your bag on the bed.” Scarlett pulled back the covers of her bed and gave it a cursory glance. “There. No bugs. We’re fine.”
Scarlett started stripping off her clothes. It took a minute to notice the silence behind her. Down to just her bra and underwear, she turned. “What?”
Megan was staring at her with wide eyes and color high in her cheeks. “You’re just going to get naked right there?”
“Yes?” What was wrong with that?
“I’ll be in the bathroom.” Still flushed, Megan grabbed her pajamas and went into the bathroom.
Whatever. Scarlett pulled off the rest of her clothes. She was too tired to find pajamas. All she wanted was sleep. She got into bed, pulled up all the covers, and closed her eyes.
* * *
Megan wasn’t sure what woke her up at first, or for that matter, where she was. She jolted out of a sound sleep and sat upright, heart racing, surrounded by darkness. Everything came back to her all at once: the drive, the sunrise, the leg of the journey out here to Myrtle Beach. She’d gone to sleep right after they got here, and now it was—she checked the clock—nine at night. All right, so she had slept for like six or seven hours, and now she was still pretty tired but also massively hungry. Her stomach made some unfortunate grumbling noises, followed by something that sounded like...groaning?
No, that part wasn’t her stomach. Megan pushed carefully out of bed and walked across the narrow space between the beds to where Scarlett was sleeping, cuddled all the way under the blankets. She was making a sort of low, moaning sound, like she might be in pain, or...or...not in pain.
That alternative made Megan stumble back in surprise, sitting hard on the bed. Her immediate follow-up was laughter, and she stifled her giggles behind her hand. Scarlett was either having a bad dream or a really good one, and she was making some noises that gave Megan some really inappropriate thoughts. Fucking hell. Leave it to Scarlett to be distracting even when sound asleep. How was Megan supposed to focus on anything else now?
At least she was wide awake now, so she might as well do something about getting food. That would be enough of a distraction for whatever the hell Scarlett was murmuring about.
Megan flipped on the light on the nightstand. Maybe it would wake Scarlett up, which would solve the second problem just as easily. But Scarlett kept right on sleeping, so Megan went through the binder the Pink Sands Inn provided about area food and hotel information. The sheets inside with hotel info were slightly yellowed and a bit crinkly to her touch, like no one had updated them in years, and maybe they hadn’t. Maybe the Pink Sands Inn knew that t
ourists were going to pay whatever they asked and not care much about other amenities with the ocean right outside their doorstep.
She settled on Domino’s, because they were still open and had an app, so she didn’t actually have to talk to a human being. With a large pizza and cheesy bread en route to their hotel, she decided to go for a walk to the vending machine and to get some ice. The vending machine looked straight out of the ’80s, with the old-fashioned Coca-Cola logo and the large plastic buttons you had to push with your whole hand. The colors were faded, but she could make out the varieties and chose a root beer for herself. The can tumbled out, thunking into the bottom drawer, its metal surface cold against her fingers. She should get one for Scarlett, too, in case Scarlett woke up. What kind of soda did Scarlett drink? She had ordered sweet tea at lunch. At one time, she’d known what Scarlett liked, but maybe those things changed. It had been a number of years. She got a can of Coke and filled the ice bucket.
Scarlett was still asleep when Megan got back to the room, and stayed asleep even when Megan flicked the lights back on. Megan sat back down on her bed to wait and watch the pizza get closer on the app. Scarlett could sleep through anything, but at least she wasn’t making sexy noises anymore. Megan frowned at her former friend. It wasn’t Scarlett’s fault, so Megan knew it was ridiculous to be irritated at her, but she’d been irritated at Scarlett for years and it felt like habit. Of course, she’d been irritated at the thought of Scarlett, not Scarlett herself, and now having the person here complicated all of Megan’s pure memory-based irritation. The in-real-life Scarlett was not the monster Megan had been making her out to be. And now, sleeping in her bed, looking innocent and also beautiful, Scarlett was tangling up all of Megan’s emotions.
The pizza delivery person knocked on the door, and even that didn’t wake Scarlett up, so Megan didn’t feel bad going back to her bed with the entire pizza and cheesy bread and turning on the television. Scarlett could sleep, and Megan could eat.
Megan ate nearly half the pizza on her own and was working her way through the cheesy bread when Scarlett woke up. She came awake slowly, first with a few murmurs, and then some shuffling around, and then she rolled over and blinked at Megan. “Is that a pizza?”
Megan had to smile. “Yeah. You want some?”
“Definitely. I’m starving.” Scarlett sat up, the blankets slipping down around her hips.
Megan reflexively turned away. “Oh my god! Why are you naked?”
“What?” Scarlett looked down at herself. “Oh. I was too tired to put on pajamas.” She reached across the gap between the beds. “Slide that pizza box over here, will you?”
“You’re just going to stay naked?” Megan couldn’t help the shrill tone in her voice.
“Does it bother you?”
Scarlett’s tone was mischievous, and Megan didn’t know how to feel about it. She wasn’t a prude; she’d seen lots of people naked, had been naked in front of lots of people as well, but something about it being Scarlett unsettled the hell out of her. She forced her glance across the space between them, the pizza box held like a shield. Don’t look at her tits. They were right there, though, just at the bottom of Megan’s vision, even as she locked eyes with Scarlett like they were in a staring contest. “It doesn’t bother me,” Megan lied.
Scarlett was still grinning, that little impish smile. “So why do you look so horrified?”
“I’m not horrified.” Megan shoved the pizza box across the space. “Take your damn pizza, will you?”
“And cheesy bread?”
Megan looked down at the cheesy bread in the box on her lap, then handed two of the breadsticks across the gap. “There. The rest is mine.”
Scarlett laughed. “We’ll see about that.”
She ate the breadsticks first, then finally sighed. “You want me to put some clothes on?”
“Doesn’t bother me. You do whatever you like.” Megan might be terribly distracted, but she could fake nonchalance.
Scarlett grumbled good-naturedly and rolled out of bed, walking bare-assed over to her overnight bag and pulling out some clothes. Megan looked up only once to see the golden-tanned curves of her body and then looked away again, focusing on chewing the breadsticks. Scarlett was probably just radiant like that naturally, when Megan ended up always looking like someone had kept her locked up in a closet for most of her life. It wasn’t like she was ashamed of her body, but if she looked like Scarlett, she’d probably go around naked a lot more, too.
The idea of being hidden in a closet reminded Megan of all the other ways she’d been closeted, back before realizing she was bi, and all of a sudden her feelings about Scarlett crashed through her with a devastatingly simple explanation.
Fuck.
Fuck, no.
“There, is that better?” Scarlett stood in front of Megan’s bed, now wearing a nightshirt. It didn’t reach her knees, leaving a long expanse of thigh exposed, and Megan swallowed what she was chewing. It went down kind of hard.
“Much better,” she forced herself to say, and drank some root beer. “I got you a Coke. It’s in the ice bucket.”
“You got ice?” Scarlett walked over to peek in the square taupe plastic container lined with a plastic bag. “And soda?”
“I wanted to go for a walk.”
“How close is the pizza place?” Scarlett returned to her bed with her soda.
“Delivery.”
Scarlett nodded. “Good choice.” She stifled a yawn. “I’d normally say this was gonna fuck up my sleep schedule, but honestly, I could sleep another nine hours.”
“Me, too. But the hunger woke me up.” Megan pushed the box of breadsticks away. “I’ve been defeated. You can have the rest of these if you want.”
“Thanks.” Scarlett took them over to her bed. “I was worried I was gonna have to wrestle you for them.”
Megan almost retorted, “I’d like to see you try,” the words hovering just at the tip of her tongue, but Scarlett would do it. She’d come over here and push Megan down onto the bed and pin her, and...and...
Megan chugged more of her root beer to try and cool the flaming feeling in her body. Scarlett didn’t seem to notice. Of course she didn’t. Scarlett didn’t notice anybody who was interested in her, and Megan shouldn’t be interested in her anyway, since Scarlett screwed her—and not in the fun way—before they started college. She was still mad.
That righteous anger that had kept her warm for so many nights was fading away into something less righteous, though, and Megan was too tired to fight it. She got up to go brush her teeth again and give herself some space.
When she returned, Scarlett was tucked back into bed, playing on her phone, her eyelids drooping. The pizza box was empty. “We destroyed it.” She looked over at Megan. “Good teamwork.”
“Right.” Megan climbed back into bed. She should probably say something, but didn’t know what to say. “I don’t care if you sleep naked. I was just surprised.”
Scarlett snorted. “Sure. You looked surprised. But don’t worry. I usually wear clothes to sleep. So you don’t have to look at my tits anymore.”
“Great.” Megan’s voice didn’t sound as excited about that as she’d hoped to sound. “I, uh, appreciate that.”
Scarlett made some quiet noise that Megan didn’t hear, and then silence fell between them. Megan scrunched down under the covers again, suddenly heavy with sleep. Across the aisle, Scarlett was rustling around, clearing up the trash from their pizza, and it was just so good to have a friend here. She could ignore whatever unwelcome other feelings for Scarlett were surfacing, and focus on friendship. Friendship was fine.
Chapter Seven
Maybe it was all the pizza, or the fact that she slept for basically twenty hours, but Scarlett awoke the next morning feeling amazing. After the initial uncertainties about where she was or what day it was, she blinked ope
n and sat up, looking around at the room. The heavy motel curtains were still drawn across the windows, and she was about to get up and open them, but then she stopped. Megan was still asleep, curled up into a tiny ball beneath the covers, completely silent. Also, the alarm clock said it was only seven in the morning. Shit, when was the last time she’d been awake at seven when she hadn’t stayed awake the whole night before?
Megan could have her sleep. Scarlett felt refreshed and rejuvenated, and she wanted to get up. She took her time in the shower, enjoying the limitless hot water of a decent motel, and then got dressed in some comfortable clothes for traveling. Megan still slept on. She would let her sleep until at least nine, and then wake her up if she wasn’t awake by nine thirty.
In the meantime, though, Scarlett got some remote data entry work done, a bit of mindless number crunching that she could do without paying very much attention to it. The Wi-Fi was reliable, at least, and she set up at the round table with her aging laptop and slid the curtain open just enough to let some sunlight spill across her workspace. It was a pleasant place to work. Something about this whole thing seemed pleasantly domestic, with Megan dozing nearby, and Scarlett couldn’t let those feelings settle too deeply on her. Megan, after all, seemed to have maintained her irritation toward Scarlett, even if it was interrupted by brief, beautiful stretches of kindness or at least civility.
And then there was that whole thing with the nakedness. It wasn’t like Scarlett was a nudist, but she spent a lot of time walking around naked while she was doing laundry or just didn’t want to get dressed right away. None of her roommates had ever cared. Megan, though, reacted like she’d never seen a tit before.
Oh god. What if she’d never seen a tit before? Was that even possible? It couldn’t be. She had to have seen some PG-13 movies, right? Or a foreign film? Or maybe porn? Scarlett couldn’t picture Megan watching porn. Well, actually, she could picture it, could picture Megan’s little hitching breaths when she got turned on, the way she might furtively sneak a hand down into her pajamas, biting her lip at the indecency of it all...
