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Once we’re back inside the hotel I walk straight to the lobby bathroom and go inside, shutting the door fast and locking the bolt. I stand in front of the sink, turn the water on and splash some on my face, attempting to get a grip on what I’m feeling. There’s something niggling in the back of my brain. Friction. Like two puzzle pieces rubbing together and trying to fall into place.
The way Ben acted when I asked him if he had kids yesterday … he skirted the subject, avoided the question. And the way he went all tight when I asked him who Mason was. If he were responsible for killing his own kid, I don’t think he would be so shut off about it. People do that when they’re experiencing grief.
I come out of the bathroom and Ben is pacing the floor. When he sees me, his face is awash with curiosity and concern.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah. Just tired I think.”
“We could watch a movie if you want. Or I could take off and let you get some rest.”
My mouth is dry, excitement filling every cell in my body. It’s like a drug when this happens. When I get close to learning something. I need to push past this barrier between us. “A movie sounds good.”
We make our way upstairs to my room. On the way I send a quick text to Rigger, letting him know I’ll be in there with company, and he replies with three dots. His way of saying he wants to know more. I’ll let him know later.
I toss my shoulder bag on the bed and grab the remote control, turning on the television. Ben’s eyes drift around the room for a second before I realize that Rigger left his Phoenix Suns cap in here earlier. Shit. How did I not see this when I changed clothes?
“I’m going to use the restroom if you don’t mind.”
“Sure.” The second he’s gone, I grab Rigger’s hat and toss it under the bed, grateful he didn’t leave anything else.
And that’s when icy realization slides down my back, when it occurs to me … I’m the one who left something in the bathroom that I really should not have left. I’d gotten them out of my suitcase when we got here several days ago because I never leave them packed.
It’s the one thing I need Ben to never,everfind, and it’s the one thing he’s probably looking at right this second wondering … what the hell?
My hands go over my mouth instinctively, covering a string of curse words that want to escape.
“Oh god, why …?” I mutter. “Why am I such an idiot?”
I hear the toilet flush, the water run. The door opens and panic tickles my insides. My chest rattles a few times as Ben appears.
“What the fuck is this?” he asks, holding up the brunette wig and glaring at me questioningly.
My mind goes haywire trying to think of a good excuse. “The luxury clothing store I work for specializes in wigs.”
His eyes narrow and he lowers the hair before lifting his other hand. Pinched between his thumb and forefinger is the tiny sheet of plastic that holds a few fake moles. “And this? Because these items look awfully similar to what this girl Alejandra Sanchez wore to my office last week.”
His eyes are locked on mine and I blow out a breath, knowing I can’t wiggle my way out of this. “Okay, but I can explain.”
Setting his jaw and tightening his grip on the wig, Ben seems like he’s about to lose his cool. “You damn well better.”
“I will, just … promise me you’ll be open minded.”
With something that sounds like a growl he tosses the wig and moles on the bed, then sits in the chair, crossing his legs and hooking his hands behind his head. “I’m waiting.”
I take a few steps in his direction. “Okay. Well, I heard about you from a friend and I was curious. She told me how attractive you were, and how successful your company was. And—”
“What friend?” he interrupts, his voice gravelly.
“It doesn’t matter,” I argue, hoping he will buy it.
“Yes it does. What friend? What’s her name?”
“Melissa something. I don’t remember.”
“Bullshit. I don’t know a Melissa. Now give me the truth, Tove. Or else I’ll leave here and do my own research and learn everything there is to know about you, things you probably don’t want me to know.”
“How do you know there are things I wouldn’t want you to know?”
