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That would mean showing her face. She didn’t move. Couldn’t. “Probably not.”
“Okay.” He took a steady breath and kissed the top of her head. “Then, not that I’m complaining, but how about you tell me what’s up with all these costumes? When am I going to see the real Hope?”
Something kicked her in the chest and twisted uncomfortably. Instead of answering, she struggled to her feet and headed for her handbag. Inside she found the handcuff key and unlocked both his hands.
Xavier let out a sigh of relief, not quite like the one a few minutes before. Still refusing to meet his gaze, she strode over to the mini bar and chose a bottle at random. He rubbed his wrists while she poured them both a drink.
Distraction.
“You’re not a fan of clowns?” She fluffed her ridiculous skirt with one hand and put the glass to her lips without meeting his eyes.
“That’s not the issue. You’re gorgeous no matter what you wear. What I’m curious about is why you’re trying so hard to hide the real you.”
“I’d like to know why you can’t roll over and go to sleep like a normal guy.” It came out far harsher than she’d intended.
He folded his arms over his chest and made no move to drink from his glass. “Because you’re smart and witty, and I enjoytalking with you, the real you. Because you are intriguing and captivating, and you make me think. Because I’d like to get to know you, ask your opinion on the world, share mine. Find out what we agree on, and even if we don’t, it might still be a fun way to pass some time. I like you, and I’m curious to know why you’re throwing up so many walls here.”
Not walls… secrets. Instead of answering, she turned away and looked out the window, anywhere but at his half-naked body. He lay bare except for his t-shirt, without a single thought of modesty. No self-esteem issues there, not that he had any reason to doubt his good looks. More than once, she’d caught a receptionist or waitress eyeing him up like a trader at a slave auction, and they didn’t even know the half of it. She sometimes feared that if they guessed how good he was in bed, she’d have had a full-blown riot on her hands. If he noticed their stares, he didn’t show it. She gave him bonus points for that.
Risking a glance back at the bed, she took another mental snapshot and imagined loading it onto Instagram with the hashtagMINE.The urge to brag that someone likeherhad managed to get someone likehimwas almost overwhelming. However, bragging like that would mean increasing her chances of being found. Something she had to avoid at all costs. She had enough people looking for her already. She didn’t need his six-hundred thousand jealous followers after her blood as well.
Wary as she was, it was still a struggle not to go to Xavier, lay her body over his, join his body with hers. Her body swayed towards him before she could stop herself. In retaliation, she took a step away and turned to the window.
Outside it was late afternoon, but a storm had made the day prematurely dark. Streetlights blinked on. People without umbrellas scurried past those with.
His uncharacteristic silence pressed against her back. She hunched her shoulders. “You don’t understand,” she mumbled.
“Make me.”
Lightening shattered the sky. She counted three Mississippi’s until the thunder rattled the windows. She waited until it passed.
“I don’t want tobeher when I’m with you,” she whispered. “The real me. I want to be who I am when I’m with you. You wouldn’t like the real me. You would never have even noticed her. She would have noticed you, though, wanted you. You stride through the world taking whatever you want with this sense of godly entitlement.” Her finger made a wet trail down the windowpane following a single drop. “When I’m with you, I feel like I’m entitled to it, too.”
“Entitled to what?”
“I don’t know. Happiness? Freedom?”
“Hope, I promise you, you have no idea how the world truly sees you.”
Her mouth twisted. “That’s just it, Xavier, the world doesn’t see me at all. Did you know it took two vodka shots at six am for me to even get in your car that first day? That I’d already had two glasses of wine the night we met? I know exactly how easy it is to ignore me. People do it all the time.”
“Then they’re fucking idiots,” he said.
She grinned in spite of herself, glancing back over her shoulder. “You’rea fucking idiot.”
His eyebrow twitched. “Smart enough to convince you to come with me on this crazy road trip. Hope, if the rest of the world can’t see you, they’re missing out on something amazing. You don’t need to hide, not with me. You certainly don’t need the clown outfit.”
Hope shook her head. “I explained it before, that was one of the laws, remember? The sadomasochistic abuse thing? Which could be interpreted as being handcuffed to a clown?Youwere the one who told me that. That’s why I—you’re still looking at me blankly.”
“I didn’t put two and two together. I saw you in that outfit, and my brain kind of short-circuited. I—I didn’t get it. Sorry.”
“What were you saying about smart again?”
“Har, funny girl. Seriously, if the people around you don’t see you, that’s a reflection on them, not you. I think you’re—”
“Stop! Look, Xavier, you said at the start we would only do this for as long as it was fun. Keeping it light, not getting too personal, the costumes, the acts, they all keep it fun for me. Can we leave it at that?”
She could see him chewing back the unasked questions one by one. It took some time. His expression remained unconvinced, but he tilted his head in acceptance.
