For some reason I feel hot. And my heart starts beating too fast.
“Because you saw it and called Bennett, and he called me, and he told the girls before I could do damage control…” He throws up his hands. “So here we are.”
“You wrote that book.”
He shakes his head. “I absolutely did not write that book. We all know who wrote the fucking book, Connor. It was Kiera, remember? We were all there when she wrote it. Hell, we helped. How do you not remember?”
“I remember. I was there,” I say, echoing what he just said, but getting a weird feeling about it. He opens his mouth to say more, but in that exact instant, my phone dings a text.
I pull it out of my pocket and stare at the screen.
“Who is it?”
“My father,” I say, looking back at Hayes. “He’s pissed. I gotta go.”
“How long are you gonna let this go on?”
“I’ll take care of it, OK? I’m fine with telling him I don’t want to run.”
“And what about all the other stuff, Connor?”
“What other stuff?”
“Jesus Christ,” he says, running his fingers through his messed up hair. It’s only then that I notice him. I mean like… really notice him. See him. He’s wearing yesterday’s suit as well. No jacket, just his two-thousand-dollar once starched flat, white button-down shirt that is now rumpled. Half tucked in, half pulled out. His jaw has a shadow across it, which looks good and accentuates his hard features. Maybe even softens them a little, in a masculine way. If that makes sense.
“What other stuff?” I ask. “You mean the book? I’m not gonna bring that book up to my father.”
“Why not?” His eyes are blue, I notice. I don’t think I’ve ever noticed that before. Blue. Which contrasts sharply with his nearly-black hair. They hold my gaze and we stare at each other for a long time. Seconds that seem like years. “Maybe you should take the book with you and plop it down on his desk. Ask him what the fuck?”
“Why the hell would I do that?”
Hayes huffs out a little breath of air. “Why the hell wouldn’t you is the better question.” He pauses, rakes his fingers through his already tousled hair, and says, “It’s not fair, Connor. To keep her as a mistress. She deserves better after all she’s been through. Either love her whole or set her free.”
My phone dings again.
“I gotta go,” I say for like the hundredth time. Only this time there’s no urgency in it. No frustration. No defensiveness.
“So leave.” And his words come out the same way. No anger. No blame. No expectations.
“I’ll be back. Where you guys gonna be?”
“I don’t know, Con. I have no idea.”
“Call me then, OK? And let me know.”
But he just stares at me.
“Can I take one of your cars?” I ask. Because I just realized I have no way home.
“The helicopter is waiting,” he says, waving a hand at nothing in particular. “I’ll text the pilot and let him know you’re coming.”
“Thanks,” I say, meaning it. “For, you know… everything.”
He shakes his head as I walk out the library’s large double doors, calling, “I’ll see you guys later,” over my shoulder.
I’m sitting in the cold seat of the helicopter, halfway to the city, when I remember Emily.
Did he lie about her?
Or did someone lie to him?
Maybe I made her up? Maybe she was never there? Maybe I’m going crazy? Because I feel like I’m going crazy. This book, and Kiera, and how yesterday turned into last night, and the memories… it’s all very insane-asylum crazy.
CHAPTER TWENTY – KIERA
When I open my eyes Sofia is staring at me, her hands tucked under her cheek, light brown eyes catching the light filtering through a pair of sheer drapes so it illuminates those little rings of yellow in her irises.
“Hey,” she says, smiling at me.
“Hey.” I smile back. “What time is it?”
She turns over to peek at a clock. Which I can see without moving, but I don’t care. I like the way her neck looks when she stretches it like that. “Almost two-thirty.”
“Is Connor still here?”
“I don’t know,” she says, turning back to me.
“Hayes?”
“Haven’t seen him. But I haven’t been up yet, either. So no clue.”
“How long have you been awake?”
She shrugs. “Twenty minutes, maybe? Half hour? I dunno.”
“So… you’ve just been lying here, looking at me this whole time.”
She smiles again. “Give it a minute, Kiera. Let last night sink in. Then tell me you don’t need thirty minutes to process.”
“Point,” I say. I turn over on my back to stare at the ceiling, thinking back on what happened last night. “Did I fuck Hayes?”
We both laugh.
“Yes,” she says through a building fit of giggles. “Did you like it?”
“Mmm-hmm,” I mumble, thinking I’m gonna need more than thirty minutes to process.