Redefining Dallas - Part 9

Everyone in this story is 18+

The next day was a blur. I’d barely slept, if at all. My body was exhausted, but my mind wouldn’t stop replaying everything that had happened. Every word Ayden had said, every humiliating moment, and every overwhelming sensation. My thoughts were a mess, and it felt like my chest was tied in knots.

Ashlee, cheerful as ever, had already started her morning routine when she caught sight of me dragging myself around the room. “Babe, your eyes look so red and swollen,” she said, rummaging through her bag before handing me a pair of eye patches. “Here, these’ll help. It’s probably the chlorine from the pool yesterday, right?”

I nodded quickly, forcing a weak smile. “Yeah, chlorine,” I mumbled, avoiding her gaze as I pressed the patches to my face. She didn’t need to know the real reason my eyes were puffy and red. She didn’t need to know anything.

She flitted around the room, still full of energy, fixing her hair and applying lip gloss in the bathroom mirror. I muttered something about grabbing our bags and stepped into the hallway, desperate for a moment alone to clear my head.

But when I opened the door, my stomach dropped. There, on the floor in front of our room, were my cum-soaked boxers and clothes from the night before, neatly folded, as if someone had left them there on purpose.

I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. The sight of them was like a punch to the gut, a physical reminder of everything that had happened—and the fact that Ayden was nowhere near as subtle as I’d hoped he’d be. I glanced up and down the hallway, praying no one was around to see, then grabbed the clothes and shoved them into my bag as quickly as possible.

Shit, shit, shit, I thought, my hands trembling as I zipped the bag shut. I turned toward the door, praying Ashlee hadn’t noticed anything.

Luckily, when I stepped back inside, she was still in the bathroom, perfecting her lip gloss with meticulous precision. She didn’t even look up.

“Ready to go, babe?” she called out, puckering her lips at her reflection.

“Yeah,” I said quickly, trying to sound normal as I shoved the bag into the corner. “Let’s go.”

But as we left the hotel, my thoughts were anything but normal. I couldn’t shake the humiliation of finding those clothes, or the twisted, undeniable thrill that came with knowing Ayden had left them there on purpose.

◆◆◆

We stepped into the lobby, I felt unusually twitchy and guilty at once. Ashlee drifted ahead toward the tall glass doors, catching her reflection in every shiny surface she passed.

“Wait! Hold up, babe,” she said, angling her phone toward a patch of flattering sunlight by the ficus. “This is the perfect selfie light. Go check us out.”

I sighed and turned toward the front desk.

The clerk looked up, smiling with that too-professional tone only hotel people and serial killers have. “Checking out?”
“Yeah,” I said, glancing behind me to make sure Ashlee wasn’t paying attention.
“Room 709,” I added.
“Will you be paying, Mr. Eden?”

Ashlee didn’t even blink—“Yeah, yeah, he’ll pay,” she muttered distractedly, adjusting her sunglasses and turning to get a better angle on her gloss. “He always does.”

I nodded to the clerk and slid my card across the desk. Every second dragged. I kept waiting for the clerk to say something.
About my last night’s cum run in the corridors…

But… thankfully nothing. Just typing. A swipe. A receipt. I could breathe again.

Just as I turned to leave, the elevator dinged to the side of us.

Ayden stepped out like nothing had happened, fresh, sunglasses on indoors, sipping a bright pink iced drink through a straw like the world was his runway.
I froze.

He didn’t look at me. He didn’t have to.

I wiped the sweat off my forehead and reached for my own phone, vibrating in my pocket. I glanced at the screen, and my stomach sank a little when I saw who it was.

Texas.

My older brother rarely messaged me, so when he did, it was always worth paying attention to. I opened the text.

Texas: “Dinner at my place this weekend. There’s someone special I want you to meet.”

I stared at the message, my mind spinning. Texas didn’t do special. He’d always been the no-strings, love-‘em-and-leave-‘em type. If he was inviting me over for dinner, it had to mean this person wasn’t just special, they were significant.

“Everything okay, babe?” Ashlee called, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah,” I said quickly, pocketing my phone. “It’s just Texas. Wants us to come over for dinner this weekend.”

“I’m coming.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “But only if Ayden comes too. Otherwise it’s just gonna be football and grunts and your brother acting like he invented beer. No thanks.”

Then, over her shoulder as she walked off: “Take the bags, babe. And be careful with the Louis.”

I leaned down to grab the handles. The Louis bag I paid for, cause’ I pay for everything, it was heavier than it looked. Probably stuffed with Ashlee’s backup shoes and unresolved issues.

Ayden reached over and plucked it from my grip like it weighed nothing.

“I’ll help,” he said, then winked. “Only because it’s a Louis.”

I stood there, stunned.

Then, casually, like it meant nothing:
“Did you find your clothes outside your room?” he asked. “You seemed to have forgotten them.”
I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.

Ayden smirked. “Cheer up, straight boy. Of course I’ll join the dinner. Wouldn’t want it to get too awkward. Oh, and—thanks for yesterday.”

He turned away, the designer bag swinging off his shoulder.

“And hey,” he added, glancing back over his sunglasses. “I’m bringing Troy.”

I blinked. “Huh?”

But he was already walking toward the car, hips swinging like nothing.

I stood there gripping the rest of the luggage, sweat already pooling under my collar.

“Who the fuck is Troy?” I muttered.
And just like that, dinner with Texas officially sounded like a disaster waiting to happen.