Davina

Chapter Fourteen

Eric's POV

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"I fucking hate this."

"Well, this wouldn't be happening if you weren't a dumbass who only booked two rooms."

I might as well have gotten us all rooms at a shitty motel than a five-star hotel if I'm just gonna be sleeping on the floor the entire time, which Davina insisted I do. I asked Victor to sleep in Alex and Jaxon's room, but by the time he went there to move, they were already passed out with their huge bodies covering the entirety of both beds as they spent the night drinking. Then when Davina said one of us men had to take the floor, I instantly suggested Victor, but she insisted the opposite, since I was, "the stupid one".

"My fucking God," I groaned, throwing my one and only pillow that I was kindly given to me across the room. "I'd rather sleep in a fucking bathtub."

"Then do it," Davina deadpanned, obviously not giving two shits where I spend the night. While I'm laying beyond uncomfortably on the hard, carpeted floor, Davina has made herself very comfortable in her own bed, the one closest to the balcony.

"I'm gonna throw you off the fucking balcony in your sleep," I inform her.

"Please do, being thrown off a balcony is one of my life goals."

"You know, you should be the one sleeping down here," I say, glaring up at her though I can barely see her as she's hidden under the sheets.

"Aren't you a decent enough man to not let a woman sleep on the floor when there's the option of a bed?" she responds.

"I am, which is why I'm still waiting for my 'thank you'."

She uncovers her head with the blanket and sits up, looking straight down at me with the most dumbfounded look, "Yes, thank you, Eric, for doing the bare minimum."

"The bare minimum is keeping you alive at all," I tell her. "I've done much more than that."

"Such as?" she chuckles.

"You'll see."

A knock on the door earns Davina and I's attention. I smile and gladly get up, smoothing out my shirt.

"Thank you," I say to the room service person, taking a tray from their hands and closing the door. I turn around and can't help the proud smile that's plastered on my face, not matching Davina's face that holds a mixture of annoyance and confusion.

"You got room service?" she asks with one raised brow.

"I did," I answer. "Hope you like Pinot."

"May I ask why you got us wine?"

"Because I'm bored as hell, and you sure aren't going to get any wine while you're with Francisco, so you're welcome."

"Thanks," she says, grabbing a glass from the tray. "Where's Victor?"

"Taking a smoke."

"Oh."

One hour later

Davina and I have spent the past hour drinking every last drop of the bottle of wine I ordered, then we ended up ordering another, which we have also emptied. Drunk, we've shared stories of random people we know. She just finished telling me one about how a guy was an abulance driver and got fired. Before that, I told her stories about my brother and I when we were kids, always giving my dad a hard time.

"Where the fuck is Victor," I chuckle, looking at the door.

"I don't know," Davina sighs, falling on her back on the bed, a hand on her forehead. "Oh, he's right there."

Both our heads turn to Victor's bed. I forgot he walked in earlier while Davina and I were half-way through our second bottle of wine.

"I'm sleepy," she complains.

"Then sleep," I pause, "on the floor."

"I don't wanna sleep on the floor," she whines.

"Well neither do I."

"Fine then," she pulls the blanket on top of her and scoots to one side of the bed, leaving one half empty, "Sleep there," she nods down at the empty side.

Barely thinking, I jump and flop down onto the empty side of her bed as she complains about how I couldn't just climb in like a normal person.

"Fucking dumbass," Davina says.

"Ow, you fucking kicked me."

"Fuck off."

"Fuck you."

"Do it then."

A moment of silence loudly fills the room as we both try to process what she just said, and what it meant, "What?"

"Fuck me," she laughs.

I turn my head to see her facing the ceiling with a smile and closed eyes. "Go to sleep, Davina," I sigh.

"I need to pee."

I open my eyes and squint at the memory of Romaldo telling me what happened when Davina tried to pee drunk. "Please use the fucking toilet," I tell her.

"I will, I'm not an idiot."

"Don't use the fucking sink."

"Don't tell me what to fucking do." She gets up and, for some reason, tip-toes to the bathroom and doesn't even close the door.

"Which one is the fucking toilet?" she shouts from the bathroom.

"Oh my fucking God," I sigh, leaving my comfortable position on the bed I finally got to lay on and speed-walk to the bathroom, only to find Davina in the shower, fully-clothed, water off.

"I don't think that's the toil—"

"Shh," she cuts me off with her pointer finger. "This works too."

"No, no it does not," I shake my head.

She shoots me the angriest glare. "Do you have something against showers?" she questions.

"No, in fact I'm quite a fan."

"Then what is your problem?"

"You! You are the problem, you're peeing in the shower, there's a fucking toilet right next to you."

"Well it's not hurting you, is it?"

"No."

"So shut the fuck up."

I stand for a while before deciding to just let her be. Tomorrow, we hand her over, and she might as well be spending the night drunk.

"Eric," a male voice calls out to me.

"Victor?" I walk towards the beds with my hands in my pockets and a very sleepy Victor comes into my view.

"Alfredo's calling."

Well, that worsened my mood. I take the phone from his hand and press accept, holding the screen agaisnt my ear, "Dad."

"Eric. Have you made it to the hotel?"

"Si."

"And where is Davina?"

"Here."

"Good. Fly back to Sicily straight away once you're done with her, we have a meeting with the Americans."

"What for?" I furrow my eyebrows.

"They want to make an alliance. Be in Sicily tomorrow."

With that, he hung up.

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sorry this was a short chapter

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