Chapter 37: 37

Dona's POV

The hotel August pulled into looked like something I’d only seen on Pinterest boards. There was glass literally everywhere, fountains glowing blue, a valet in a suit, people walking their dogs around the compound. I sat there in his car, staring out like I’d just been teleported into someone else’s life.

A five-star hotel. A literal five-star hotel.

I almost asked him if we’d driven into the wrong parking lot on accident, but August got out and came around to open my door before I could embarrass myself.

I climbed out slowly. “So… you’re just casually living here.”

He shrugged like it was nothing. “It’s not a big deal.”

Okay, maybe not for him. For me, this place might as well have been a castle with a moat and a dragon.

Inside, the lobby made it worse. I stared in awe at the marble floors, chandeliers, the leather furniture, the people, the heady smell of moving money. Real money. Old money. Long money. Money that had never known stress.

I whispered, “August, are you sure we’re allowed to stand in here? I feel like someone is going to ask for proof of income.”

He gave a tired eye-roll. “Dona, please.”

Before I could respond, the receptionist looked up and smiled. “Good evening. Welcome back, Mr. Reynolds.”

Mr. Reynolds?

Yeah, okay, maybe I was the only broke one in this building.

August leaned forward. “Hey. Yeah, just need my room activated again, with two keys.” He glanced at me for half a second before returning his attention to the receptionist. “And could you make sure no one else has access to it?”

“Of course,” she said. “Is everything okay?”

August’s face went slightly red. “Just a long night.”

Out of habit, I glanced behind me, hugging my arms around myself. The receptionist typed fast, handed him the keys and wished us a good stay. He nudged his head at me. “Come on.”

I followed him to the elevators, trying not to look like a kid taking a field trip in a fancy building. When we finally stepped inside August's suite, my brain stalled. It was huge! As big as two apartments combined, with two bedrooms and a full kitchen.

I turned in a slow circle. “Okay. No. Seriously. How the hell are you affording this? Are you moonlighting as a young billionaire?”

August dropped his keys on the counter and laughed under his breath. “Relax. It’s not that dramatic.”

“It looks dramatic,” I replied in surprise. “This place probably costs what my mom makes in three months!”

He sat on the arm of the couch, pulling off his shoes. “Student athletes get stipends, you know. Mine is higher because I’ve been playing since I was thirteen, and I'm already a pre-professional. Tournaments, junior leagues, sponsorship bonuses, travel pay, all that stuff stacks up, and FSU’s hockey program isn’t small. The national developmental team scouts from here all the time.”

I gaped at him. “So you’re basically a sports prince.”

He gave a tiny laugh. “That’s not how it works. I just got lucky with opportunities. And tournaments pay well when you’re not crashing out early.”

I opened my mouth to respond, then immediately forgot what I was going to say because he tugged his hockey jersey off.

And suddenly August was standing there shirtless, muscles lean and defined, his v-line dipping into the waistband of his pants in a way that felt like a personal attack.

I stared before my brain caught up, and he caught me staring.

He gave me this sly look. Are you good over there McNair?”

Heat flared up the back of my neck. “I wasn’t staring. Relax. I see bodies like yours all the time at FSU.”

He raised a brow. “Oh yeah?”

“Yes,” I snapped, crossing my arms even though I absolutely did not need to. “Don’t get cocky.”

August headed for the little kitchen, opening cabinets and checking the fridge. “Alright," he said, glancing back at me, “pick your poison. Coke, wine, malt, water… and I’ve got Gatorade, if you want to feel like you just finished a marathon.”

I cracked up before I could stop myself. “Coke is fine.”

“Good choice.” He grabbed a can, walked over, and placed it in my hand. “Sit.”

“I’m not a dog.”

“Didn’t say you were,” he replied, already guiding me toward the couch anyway. “Just sit.” I sat because, honestly, my legs were still shaky and I didn’t feel like arguing. He dropped down beside me. “You’re not going anywhere alone for a while.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“No, I mean it,” he said, tone steady. “You’re with me.”

There was no point fighting that one, so I just took a sip of Coke. He stood again. “I’m gonna try Sammy one more time.”

“Okay.”

He went into his room, closing the door behind him, and I let my shoulders fall as soon as he was out of sight. The suite suddenly felt too big and too expensive for someone like me. I wandered around, touching the wall panels, checking out the second bedroom, opening the balcony door a crack just to feel actual air. Everything felt unreal. It was all like a movie set I wasn’t supposed to be on.

My phone buzzed, and it was Piper.

PIPER: Hey??? Are you okay??? Where are you??

ME: Long story. Russell called and I’m with August, hiding out at his hotel.

PIPER: WAIT WHAT???

ME: Please don’t yell at me in text.

PIPER: Sorry, I'm just stunned. Also… yeah, you're probably safer with him. Stay there.

I stared at that for a whole five seconds. Piper, out of every person on Earth, suddenly acting like August Reynolds was my guardian angel? Yeah, the world was ending.

I typed Okay and locked my phone, but I couldn't shake off my worry for her

August came back out then, rubbing the back of his neck. “She isn't answering my calls.”

I looked up at him. “I don’t like it, Augie. And I'm a little worried for Piper too. What if Russell attacks them?”

“Piper and her mom are safe. That hospital is packed, and security walks around every five minutes. Russell wouldn’t go near a crowd.”

I nodded a little. “Yeah, I'm sure you're right.”

He sat beside me. “You’re okay here. I promise.”

The rest of the day felt slow and weirdly gentle. He put on a movie on Hulu, something loud and random, and I knew he did it on purpose. Every time the mood dropped, he’d say some dumb comment, or ask what snack I wanted, or toss me a pillow and tell me to “build a fortress or something.”

It worked more than I expected.

At some point I forgot how scared I’d been earlier. Or maybe the terror was still there, hiding, but he didn’t let it take over. He kept shifting the focus, like he was determined to keep my head away from dark thoughts.

By nighttime, the room was dim and quiet again. The TV was off and August had drawn the curtains shut, and I was half sinking into the couch cushions when he asked, “Do you want to sleep in my room?”

I looked up in Surprise. “What?”

“I mean—” he held his hands up— “the bed is way bigger and comfier. And you look exhausted, so you probably need that.”

“I…” My eyes dropped to my clothes. Piper’s clothes. A borrowed shirt, borrowed shorts, nothing of mine. It hit me all at once that I really had nothing much of mine right now. The kitchen explosion and the threats, the running and the fear., they were all pushing me further and further away from my comfort space. I felt like a stray that’d been pushed from one place to another.

“I’ll take the couch,” I said softly. “Your bed is… huge. I’d drown in it.”

August laughed. “Alright. Couch it is.”

He grabbed some pillows, fluffed them more than necessary, then tucked a blanket around me. “Is that comfortable?”

“As much as it can be.”

“Good.”

But instead of going back to his room, he pulled a book from his bag, his copy of The Brothers Karamazov, and sat on the armchair closest to the couch.

The last thing I thought before drifting off was that his bookmark was close to the end.