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“But he was here? In Lost and Found?” I ask carefully.
“Yep, just got done.”
“Which room?”
Promise glares at me over the cover model’s penetrating ocean-blue eyes.
I send another glimpse down both ends of the hall.
“Got a room that wants to be found.”
That pulls my attention right back to her.
“Which one?”
“Four.”
Lenox went into four Lost. But I told Cia I’d give her more time to collect herself in five Lost.
I can’t.
I could.
I shouldn’t.
I…have to.
If Lenox was in the same room as Cyrus, I have to know if she’s okay. As hard as it was to walk away from her that night, it’s been even worse not knowing what happened to her or what’s going to happen to her.
Swallowing every ounce of ego I can, I mumble, “I, uh,” and point down at my crotch. “I lost it.”
“Lost it?” Promise questions.
“I lost my, uh…”
“Yes?”
“Fuck. I went limp, okay?”
Promise bursts out laughing, the sound echoing down the corridor.
I ignore her and pull out my wallet. “I told Cia she could stay in there a little longer and finish herself off.”
“Finish herself off? Oh Lord, he actually believes it,” she murmurs to the ceiling.
“Believe what?”
Pointing at a Lost room, she says, “We don’t come in there. Not with clients. It’s all an act.”
I know that’s the case.
I assumed that was the case.
I mean, I thought…
Every time?Goddamn.
“Regardless, any woman that fucks with me gets off,” I tell her, pulling out a few bills.
