Part II // Chapter IX

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This was a really fun chapter to write so I sincerely hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed creating it ~ Thank you to all of you who like, reblog, comment! You are the real MVPs.

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It had only been a few days--again--but I was bursting on the drive, so ready to see Danny. I was also excited for the hotel, as I'd had time to think back and realize that in all our time, we'd only been in one kind of dumpy motel and a couple short-lived airbnbs. If his newfound fame meant we could actually take trips, I was definitely on board for that, as well as on board for actual hotel room sex, not just phone sex.

Hotel sex--it seemed so glamorous. A huge, soft mattress, plush sheets and pillows, everything, even inanimate, a little sexy and expensive and special. Would there be room service? I hadn't even Googled the hotel before heading out, just went with blind faith that, considering Danny's status, it would be exceptional in some way or another. He had a habit of downplaying things with me while away on tour, not because he was ungrateful, but because--I theorized--that he didn't want me to feel even more left out of the new lifestyle. And, of course, he was the most humble person I could ever hope to meet, sometimes painfully so.

Upon arrival, the building was unlike any other--tall, seemingly taller than any hotel I'd ever seen although I figured that probably wasn't accurate, with rectangular, cream tile and stone adorned with swirling cream leaves in both symmetrical and asymmetrical designs within the wide panels and thick glass that almost seemed blue at first glance that went all the way up. It was beautiful and a little intimidating, looming so high and giving the illusion that it might actually topple forward and crush me.

Not long after I pulled up in front of the golden doors--cautiously, not even sure of where I was really going--a valet approached my driver's side door. I stuttered and stammered but eventually managed to tell him I would park it myself, as long as he could direct me as to where.

Danny was better at parking garages than I was. I knew that. He was arguably a worse driver but so sure of himself all the time--maybe that was what made him a worse driver in some ways--and he could back into parking spaces with his eyes closed. Meanwhile, I struggled to get it right in the garage myself, having to pull out, straighten, reverse, and repeat the whole thing a few times to really make it between the slots and not back my bumper into the wall. I was too excited as well, adrenaline rushing through me in anticipation of seeing him, of being welcomed into his space for once.

That was the thing--it was always me welcoming Danny home. Not that Detroit was home, although I was singing "anywhere is home when I'm with you" in my head as I got out of my car, but for once Danny would be opening the door for me, inviting me in, giving me some sort of over-the-top affectionate greeting.

Beyond the golden doors, the hotel even smelled expensive--I couldn't smell the leftover chemical perfume of cleaning supplies anywhere, only a light, clean scent that came from some other undetectable source. Beyond that, there was something rich in the atmosphere, like butter and coffee. I noticed the scent of the air first, then the actual sight, with its muted spring green walls, a huge gilded mirror on the left side, a small smattering of plush jewel-tone sofas and chairs in front of it. There was a sort of floral mural to the left of the mirror, and its golden vines drew my attention finally to the front desk, making me realize I was maybe staring at things a little too long and a little too hard, giving myself away as someone who'd never experienced such luxury before.

And I certainly wasn't dressed for it.

I almost took out my own credit card at the front desk then remembered, as the clerk was clacking away, that Danny already had the room booked and he himself hadn't even needed to pay for it. I looked around the lobby again, returning to gawking at its colorful yet dim, maybe even borderline gaudy, brilliance, until I was handed a room key and told to enjoy my stay.

Honey Drip // Danny WagnerWhere stories live. Discover now