“Laundry service?”
“Absolutely. Here you go.” She plucked a form from behind the counter and passed it to Luca with a pen. “Fill that out, how many articles, color, and what they are, include your room number, and we’ll get everything washed and folded.”
Luca hesitated at the section requesting an address. One curious glance from the attendant had Luca scribbling out a random street and house number. He inventoried the bags, but the mud-caked jeans he’d taken off at the rest stop where they showered were unaccounted for. Had he forgotten them? If he did, there was nothing he could do now. There hadn’t been much money in the pocket. He hoped whoever found them needed it more than they did.
Luca passed her the sheet, and she put the bags of laundry into a larger clear bag with the form and set it on a counter along the back wall.
“It’ll be ready in the morning.”
“Thanks.”
Luca headed through the lobby. Would Nox be in their room waiting for him or hiding somewhere? At this point, Luca wasn’t sure which would be worse. Nox there and not wanting him or being avoided.
He opened the door to the outside, his thoughts full of things he really didn’t need to think about.
Bright red flashed in Luca’s periphery, but he was too slow to avoid running into the brunette.
She stumbled, and Luca caught her by the elbow. The woman’s surprised expression turned sour. She knocked Luca’s hand away. “Don’t touch me, wetback.” She raked a look over Luca.
“I’m sorry, I…” And what was he apologizing for?
She brushed away invisible dirt off her fluffy parka. “If you’re so sorry, then go back to Mexico where you belong.” The woman shoved past Luca.
A million things tumbled through his head, yet he couldn’t get anything to come out of his mouth. Then she was gone, tacky rhinestone studded jeans, snakeskin boots, and all.
It had been a long time since anyone called Luca names. Telling people he’d been born here, his parents had been born here, was useless. He shoved away the irrational guilt for not being white enough.
Nox wasn’t in their motel room. Luca picked up a note left on the table beside the computer.
Went to get the oil changed in the van.
With Nox gone, at least he would have time to shower and think.
Think. Yeah, right.
Luca undressed, grabbed a clean pair of boxers, shirt and….
He removed the bottle of lubricant from the sweatshirt pocket.
“Maximum pleasure minimum friction.” Luca chewed his lips. Hopefully the claim wasn’t a bunch of hype. And if it was, could it really be any worse than the lotion?
He shut himself in the bathroom and set the bottle on the counter.
Now the question: was it enough?
Okay now he was being ridiculous, Nox was endowed but notthatendowed. And Luca had seen some pretty scary looking dicks to compare him to on the internet last night when trying to figure out the best way to do this.
He picked up the bottle.
He put it down.
It wasn’t going to do any good sitting there in the bottle. If he wanted to have another chance with Nox, he had to actually open it and use it.
Luca threw his clothes over the bottle and went over to the shower. A rust stain marked the area around the drain, but otherwise, the tub was clean. He turned on the water and the air whitened. He wiggled his fingers under the flow until it burned, then twisted the cold-water knob to bring down the temperature.
He started to step in the shower but found himself staring at his clothes, doing an ineffective job of concealing a bottle of lube almost as big around as a coke can.
Which surprisingly had similarities to a certain person’s anatomy.