He Waited She Wilted (Ottilie and Yorath) novel Chapter 101

Yves walked ahead, enduring the stares and whispers of the people passing by.

He had a perfectly normal, slender build, lacking bulky muscle but retaining a natural, masculine appeal.

He grabbed Ottilie's hand, leading her across the street and straight into the hotel opposite them.

Before Yves could even speak, Ottilie chimed in. "My clothes are drenched in iced coffee. Could we possibly get a day room so I can take a shower and change?"

The receptionist offered a professional smile. "Of course. I can get you one of our more affordable rooms. Will you be needing some clothes as well?"

"Yes, please," Ottilie smiled gratefully.

The receptionist handed her a complimentary blanket. "You can wrap up in this for now."

Ottilie immediately handed Yves his shirt back.

Yves slipped it on, though it was now covered in patchy, unsightly stains where Ottilie's coffee-soaked clothes had pressed against it.

Ottilie requested an extra men's t-shirt as well.

The receptionist quickly keyed their room cards and handed them over with both hands.

"Miss, summer clothes are quite thin, so do be careful when you head out."

"I will, thank you," Ottilie replied politely.

The two headed upstairs to their day room.

Once inside, Ottilie went straight to the bathroom to shower.

Modern hotels were great in almost every aspect, except for the bathrooms—the glass walls were completely transparent, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination for anyone on the outside.

Yves cleared his throat. "I'll wait outside in the hall. Just call me when you're done."

"You don't have to leave, it's sweltering out there," Ottilie replied. "I'll just pull the shower curtain."

She reached out and pulled the opaque liner shut.

Yves turned his back to the glass anyway. "Are you sure this is a good idea? Just the two of us alone in a hotel room?"

Ottilie chuckled softly. "Mr. Walden, are you blushing?"

Deciding it was best to keep his mouth shut, Yves sat down at the desk and started playing a game on the computer.

Ottilie's shower was quick. Fifteen minutes later, she stepped out with her hair already blow-dried.

While Yves went in for his turn, Ottilie took his stained clothes to the sink to wash them.

The nature of their relationship didn't require an explanation.

Yorath took a step forward, placing his long, pale hand on her shoulder and pressing down gently.

The pressure was deceptively heavy, forcing her shoulder to dip.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your new boyfriend?"

"There's nothing to introduce. He's not from your world, Yorath. Your paths will never cross, so there's no need to get acquainted."

Right on cue, Yves's voice echoed from the bathroom. "Tilly, I left my clean clothes on the bed. Could you grab them for me?"

The chilling smile vanished from Yorath's face. His voice dropped to a glacial register as he murmured, "Mr. Walden."

Without even looking at Yorath, Ottilie called back over her shoulder, "Coming."

But Yorath was faster. He brushed past her, stepping fully into the twenty-square-meter room.

The space was small enough that everything was visible at a single glance.

Ottilie's discarded, dirty clothes lay in a pile on the floor, right next to Yves's tossed pants.

To any observer, the scene painted a very clear, very passionate picture of what had just happened.