Between the Lines, page 1
Copyright © 2024 Olivia Hayle
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be distributed or transmitted without the prior consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles or reviews.
All characters and events depicted in this book are entirely fictitious. Any similarity to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
The following story contains mature themes, strong language, and explicit scenes, and is intended for mature readers.
Edited by Andie Edwards of Beyond the Proof
Proofread by Shannon Shacka
Cover illustration by Yibi of @yibiart
Cover design by Milos Jevremovic
Paperback chapter art by Ginotage Sandaru
www.oliviahayle.com
To all of our past selves.
We were doing the best we could at the time.
Thank you for getting us here.
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Social Media
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Social Media
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Social Media
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Epilogue
Social Media
Epilogue II
Acknowledgements
Books by Olivia
About Olivia
CHAPTER 1
CHARLOTTE
The water pressure in this hotel shower is fantastic.
The cost of a night here is worth every penny for the hot water alone, as I wash away my earlier hike. I’m already looking forward to ordering the best pasta dish the hotel restaurant has to offer and falling into bed early.
It’s the perfect end to a day of exploration on my solo road trip from Chicago to Los Angeles. An entire week all to myself, with new parts of the country to see.
I lean against the tiled wall behind me and turn my face toward the spray of warm water. This is one of my favorite places to be. The in-between state, with one city and ghostwriting job behind me, and another looming. It’s freedom of the best kind.
There’s good water pressure here. I wonder…
I turn on the handheld shower nozzle and wash my back, my stomach. Move the showerhead down between my legs and shift until I find just the right angle.
That’s good. That’s really good. Closing my eyes, I think about nothing but pleasure. Shadowy figures from my past flash through my mind. Not the specific men I’ve been with, but rather the situations. Like the time I had sex standing up against a camper van in the middle of a national park in Arizona. I’d only seen Simon for a few weeks while working on a book down in Tucson. He’d been a hot commitment-phobe who liked to laugh. Perfect for my tastes.
I don’t date. I don’t stay long enough in one place for that, and even if I did, I doubt dating is for me. Casual and noncommittal work best. Fun, until it stops being fun, and where I can’t get hurt.
I change the angle a bit, and pleasure flows through my limbs. It’s slow and syrupy, growing with every passing minute. My mind shifts to another fantasy. One I’ve had but never fulfilled. The idea of a man tying my hands to the headboard, my legs on either side of his head. He bends me in half and goes to town.
I moan. The sound echoes through the bathroom, and I let it. There’s no one but me here, in this large hotel room. For some reason, I was upgraded to a suite when I checked in, and I’m not one to complain.
I reach out to rest my hand against the glass shower wall. My eyes close, and I imagine someone inside me, filling the ache...
“Hello?” a voice rings out.
I only have time to open my eyes. Then he comes into view, stopping in the open doorway of my ensuite bathroom. Tall. Dark hair. Leather jacket. A keycard in hand.
Staring straight at me.
I scream. The shower nozzle falls out of my grasp, spraying water in every direction. I cover my breasts and shove my now-free hand between my legs.
The man closes his eyes. There’s a flush of color on his cheeks as he reaches out blindly for the bathroom door I’d left open. He shoves it shut.
“What are you doing in here?!” Embarrassment runs through me, hotter than the water still flowing. It chases away the high of my near-orgasm.
“I could ask you the same thing.” The voice, even through the door, is deep. Almost a bit hoarse. “I checked into this suite earlier today.”
I shut the water off and step out of the shower. Wrap a towel around my body. Water drips from my soaking hair and onto the stone floor. “I was just given this suite an hour ago!”
“Must be some mix-up.” He curses, loud enough for me to hear every syllable. “I’ll… leave you to it.”
My cheeks are flaming. I can’t remember if anyone has ever seen me masturbate. It’s not something I’ve done in bed before.
My hand hovers on the doorknob. Should I ensure he leaves? Tell him off? Right now, I don’t know if I can look him in the eye.
I don’t know if it’s better or worse that the man is handsome, too.
Still doesn’t make this his room.
“Bye!” I call.
I hear the heavy front door of my suite open and then shut with a final snick.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I look over at the mirror. My entire face is red, and I don’t know if it’s from the hot water, the pleasure, or the shame.
Probably all three.
I don’t finish with the nozzle. Instead, I blow-dry my hair halfway and then throw it into a low bun. Then I get into my jeans and a black sweater. The book I’m reading beckons from where I’d thrown it on my bed. It’s by one of my all-time favorite commercial non-fiction authors. One of the writers I most want to be like… if I can manage to impress my editor at Polar Publishing enough to finally get a contract of my own. Not for ghostwriting a memoir, but for writing my own investigative story.
All dressed, I take a long, hard look at the front door of my suite. Someone came in. They shouldn’t have been able to, and if anything, that’s something I should tell the hotel staff. The front desk needs to know.
But someone also saw me naked. A very attractive, very tall, very male someone. Not just naked, either. But my mind can’t quite linger on what he saw me doing, or I’ll die of embarrassment.
Humiliation is a feeling I’m well aware of. It’s something I’ve been running from for almost a decade. But this time, I hadn’t done anything wrong. I had taken a shower in the hotel room I was assigned. Upgraded to, even!
I psych myself up and leave the safety of the suite.
The resort is massive and decorated like a Western frontier dream. It has log siding walls and stone floors, and a giant fireplace in the lobby. It’s lit, but the leather armchairs in front of it are empty. It would be a great place to read.
I walk straight up to the reception desk. The bespectacled woman behind the long oak counter smiles at me. Her grin disappears as soon as I tell her I’m staying in in room 128.
“Yes, we’re so sorry, Ms. Gray.” She twists a little, looking behind her at her colleague. He’s glancing at me with cheeks that flame red. “This is a very unusual situation, and we’ve got, well… there’s actually been a double-booking,” she continues. “Both you and the gentleman in question had been assigned that room.”
“I’ve never experienced this before.”
“No, it’s very unusual, and we do our best to avoid it.” She clears her throat and looks supremely uncomfortable. “The thing is, the resort is fully booked. It’s Easter weekend, and we don’t have any other rooms left.”
It takes a moment for what she’s saying to sink in. I’ve never even heard of this happening before. “What?”
“I’m so sorry.” Her voice wavers. “This is unprecedented for us, too, and we will of course refund you the entire sum.”
“What does that mean? Who gets the ro
She glances at someone behind me, a quick look before returning to me. “That’s the problem. The gentleman had, in fact, checked into room 128 before you. We shouldn’t have been able to check you into it again, but like I said, this is unprecedented for us. I promise we’ll be thoroughly reviewing just how this happened.”
Well. That’s great. But it doesn’t help me now. “There was no one in that room when I arrived,” I say. “It was untouched.”
“He’d just dropped off his bags in the room and then headed out again.” Her cheeks are red now, too. “Truly, we’re so, so sorry, Ms. Gray. I’ve been authorized to offer you extra reward points and a free weekend at a later date. To make up for the inconvenience.”
There had been a double booking. He was first. That damn man was first? How had I missed a bag in the room?
I’d been tired and dirty from my hike.
I’d gone straight into the bathroom and hit the shower.
“I’m really sorry. The entire team apologizes,” she says again.
Don’t get irritated. Don’t get irritated… “So I need to go back into what I thought was my room, pack up my things, and leave? With nowhere to go?”
She blinks rapidly. “God, I’m so sorry. But… yes.” Then her gaze fixes on a point behind me, and her frown deepens.
A man comes to stand beside me at the counter and leans against it. A familiar leather jacket. Black, messy hair. Tanned skin. He puts his keycard on the counter.
“We’ll talk this out between us,” he tells the receptionist. “Don’t worry.”
Her shoulders sink. “Okay, absolutely. However you’d like to solve it.”
The man smiles at her and then turns to me. Up close, his eyes are green. “Come with me, and let’s see what more chaos you’ll create.”
My eyebrows rise. “Chaos?”
“You’ve caused a lot of it today.” But his voice is dryly amused. I follow him over to the fireplace and the two empty chairs there. He gestures for me to sit. As if we’re about to open negotiations.
Somewhere right there, between the fireplace and the front desk, my irritation gives way to a fierce embarrassment.
Not even an hour ago, he had seen me naked.
I sit on the very edge of my seat. He smiles a little and sinks to the chair across from me. He occupies all of it. Settles in, long legs stretched out, both arms draped along the armrests.
I focus on the sleeve of his leather jacket. His hand, curved over the edge.
“So,” he says. “We’re two people, and there’s only one room.”
“I’ve never been at a hotel where this has happened to me before.”
He nods. “Yeah. Me neither. But it seems like the water pressure at this place is excellent.”
Heat races up my cheeks, and my gaze snaps to his.
“How are we going to settle this?” he asks. “Only one room, and the sun has already set outside. It’s a long drive to the nearest vacant hotel.”
His implication is clear, and I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m not sharing.”
“Oh, of course you’re not.” He leans forward, and something glitters in his eyes. “We’ll play a game for it.”
CHAPTER 2
CHARLOTTE
“A game,” I repeat slowly.
He looks around the lobby. For a moment, I suspect he’s going to flag down a waiter, but he just makes eye contact with one instead. Nods his head a little. “Yes. A bit of friendly… betting.”
“You can’t be serious.” Embarrassment and irritation make my words come out sharper than I intended.
“Why not? This makes the evening more interesting.” His lips tip up in a half smile, and it makes him even more handsome. “Have you eaten?”
I shake my head mutely.
“We can start with that.” The waiter arrives with menus and the man orders a bourbon. He looks at me.
A punch of fear hits me, right below the breastbone, accompanied by adrenaline. It makes everything feel sweeter. “A glass of red wine, please.”
I look at him over the edge of my menu. Noticing the thick black hair and the straight eyebrows. His beard looks good, and his face has a light tan, the look of someone who’s spent a good week outdoors.
He’s large. A few inches taller than me. Broad across the shoulders, something that’s emphasized by his leather jacket. I suddenly feel acutely aware of that. Just like the fact that he saw me naked only a while ago.
Pleasuring myself.
I should win an award just for having a normal conversation with this man, without blushing or racing out of the room.
He’s looking at his own menu. “I don’t know your name,” he says without lifting his eyes.
I hesitate only for a moment. “Charlotte.”
“Charlotte,” he repeats. “Chaos fits you, then.”
“That’s not my nickname.”
A smile plays at the corner of his lips. “Sure it’s not.”
I want to roll my eyes; it’s with a valiant effort that I manage to resist. I’m sure I’ve sprained something in the effort. “What’s your name?”
“Aiden.”
The waiter returns with our drinks. I hold my wineglass against my chest like it’s a shield. “You want us to play a game for the room?”
“Why not? We’re going to have to settle this somehow.”
“I’m not giving up my room,” I say.
“Neither am I.”
I narrow my eyes. “What kind of game are you proposing?”
He leans back in his chair and looks around. Other guests are eating in the dining room, and, outside the large windows, the world is pitch-black. The great mountains of Zion are standing silent guard, hidden beneath the blanket of darkness.
“We’re limited on options,” he says. “But there should be a deck of cards around here. I don’t suppose you know how to play blackjack?”
I make sure to keep a smile off my face. Pinch my face a little, as if I’m concerned. “I’ve played it a few times. It’s pretty simple.”
He nods and reaches for his drink. “We’ll play a few rounds. Winner gets the room.”
I reach for my drink and, very deliberately, take a sip. Just like him. Can’t drive anywhere now.
“Winner gets the room,” I agree.
We order food and Aiden somehow finds a deck of cards. It lies innocent between our plates as we eat.
I do my best to seem slightly confused about the rules and ask him to explain them in detail.
“Okay, I’ve got it. This will be fun.” I look up at him through my lashes. I’ve been taught well. You never play your opponent—you always play the odds.
A strange sort of excitement takes root. The unexpected. The adventure. It’s what I’ve been chasing for years. Never knew it would come in this form and after one of the most embarrassing moments of my life, but here we are. You play the hand you’re dealt.
Aiden has a thick watch on his left hand that seems expensive and hiking boots on his feet. The leather jacket looks fine, but worn.
“You’re studying me,” he says, cutting into the last part of his steak. “Good tactic.”
I reach for my wine. Look at the dark-red liquid rather than at him. “You’ve seen a whole lot of me today, so I think it’s only fair.”
His movements pause, and that smile tugs at his lips again. That almost-smile. “Valid point. I didn’t look for very long, though.”
“But you saw more. So it’s justified.”
He nods, and that curved smile widens. “Another fair point. Any questions?”
“What are you here for?”
He takes a moment to answer, like the question is a hard one. Then, he lifts a shoulder in a single shrug. “I’m hiking. Wanted to go somewhere without people. Get away from the… noise.”
“This resort can’t be to your liking, then.”
“No, it’s rather crowded. I still prefer the room to sleeping outdoors, though,” he says.
I put my cutlery down, finished. If I don’t win this game, I’ll have to sleep in my car. It’s always a possibility. But the wine has taken hold, settled around the edges of my mind, and with it my drive to win.
He had embarrassed me earlier.
Let me try to embarrass him.
The plates are cleared. “Another bourbon,” Aiden tells the waiter. He glances at me. “And for the lady… Another glass of wine?”
I nod. “Yes, please.”
Aiden cracks open the deck of cards. It looks unused, and he shuffles the cards with more ease than I would have expected from a man with hands that large.
