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“Mm, smells a lot like the first strip club I worked at.” Andi leaned into me, following her whisper with a giggle.

When the older woman finally looked up from her phone to realize she had a customer—even though a bell had rung over our heads upon entering—she cut to the chase.

In a monotone voice, she said, “Thirty dollars for the hour.” She did a slow once-over of Andi.

Yeah, this place was a shit hole.

“I need one room for the evening. Two beds, preferably.”

“Only king beds left,” she answered back with her raspy tone.

“That’ll do.” I pulled my wallet from my back pocket, waiting for her to name her price.

“Two-fifty.” The woman flicked her cigarette ashes into her tray.

Two-fifty, my ass. You could get a room on the Strip for that price on any random weeknight. I had clocked this woman from the moment we walked in. Clearly, she ran the place, calling her own shots. Cash only, and she’d judge the price based on the person.

Handing over a wad of cash, she traded me for a single gold key with a green diamond-shaped keychain that read Mountain View Motel.

“Thanks.”

With a blank stare and no direction to our room, Andi and I turned around and headed back to the car to grab our things.

Turned out, she brought an overnight bag because she had to cover for what she was really doing by telling a little white lie to Peyton. I, on the other hand, always had a spare change of clothes in the car due to some long days spent at the office.

“Too scared to share a bed with me or something?”

It’s funny that she’d think that.

“That old hag thought you were a prostitute by the way she looked you up and down and offered an hourly rate. I was trying to make a point to her that was definitely not the case.” Andi leaned back on my G-Wagon with one heel against the tire and her arms crossed. Pressing my hand on the car over her head, I leaned forward and whispered against her ear, “Two beds or not, I bet you only one will be getting used tonight.”

“You know my rules, Hunter.” She bit down on her bottom lip. “Getting to know each other this weekend is supposed to be about us talking, not falling into bed together again.” Shoving me lightly, Andi popped off my car and winked before opening the door to the back seat like the sassy queen she was.

I wasn’t going to tell her that I thought her rules were bullshit and an obvious disguise that she liked to hide behind when it came to me.

“Let’s go find room…” I looked on the back of the keychain, “sixty-nine.” I chuckled, rolling my eyes.

Of course.

With a few random bags in hand, we circled the building until finally stumbling upon our room. It was exactly as I pictured it would be—hasn’t been updated since nineteen eighty-five. I swore my grandparents had the same outdated, orange-patterned wallpaper in their home when I was a kid.

The bed looked hard as a rock, and the TV probably didn’t work, but at the end of the day, we just needed a landing place for one night, and this would have to do.

“So, we can stay in this stuffy room, or we can go down to the bar and see what trouble we can get into. What do you say?”

“Well, I could definitely use a drink.” Andi sighed in relief.

“Couldn’t agree more.” I dropped our shit in the corner, opened the door, and waved my hand for Andi to lead the way.

The area they referred to as a casino was essentially a bar with a handful of slots and video poker.

Taking up most of the dim area were pool tables and dart boards surrounded by groups made up of mostly men who I could only assume were locals or bikers passing through.

“What do you want to drink?” I stood at the bar, waiting for the bartender to notice me.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“You sure about that?”