It was a really nice house, about the same size as most of the ones I’d lived in. It was cozy and cleaner than the last place had been, not that I was complaining. I’d felt his eyes on me while I’d picked through the cabinets in the kitchen and the bathroom.
I’d gotten this strange feeling going through the single, small bedroom, opening the closet and finding men’s clothes and a couple pairs of boots and worn sneakers inside. Part of me had been tempted to take another shower, but once I saw that neither bathroom had a tub, I decided I could wait.
He didn’t tell me not to snoop, but I could have almost felt his urge to tell me to sit down when I’d squatted by a bookshelf to read the titles on the spines. There were a lot of hardbacks on Roman history and a few thrillers with titles that had been adapted into movies. There had been a big stack of National Geographic magazines and paperbacks on cinema history and screenwriting. It was a magazine that I’d sat with while he ignored me.
He was really good at it too.
And it was when my stomach growled again, hours after we’d already eaten, that I started to think about how much money I should send the owners to make up for the food and utilities we were stealing.
Which then made me freak out because I didn’t know how I was going to get access to my money.
How the hell did you even get an ID when you had no proof that you’d existed in the first place?
That was exactly when he asked about me being nervous.
Not that I’d wanted to admit it, and that’s why I looked at him and tried to give the crabby man a blank expression before I lied. “I’m fine.”
“I can hear your heartbeat, liar.”
Dammit. “I’m just nervous about what’s going to happen.” I tapped my finger against the page I’d been trying to read. “About the future.” I was shaking my foot, and I hadn’t noticed. I stopped. Forming my hand into a fist, I lifted my chin. “Okay, part of me keeps expecting the cartel to show up, and I’m worried.”
At some point, his head had drooped to one side, and I’d swear one of his eyes got squinty.
“I’m sorry, am I boring you?”
“Yes.”
I scoffed, but his head lifted, and he gave me another long look with that elegant face.
“You know I’ll be able to hear someone coming,” he said, his voice flat.
“I know, but I still don’t trust it.”
His face…
“Don’t take it personally. I have trust issues. It has nothing to do with you.”
Mr. I Don’t Want to Talk About Why I Can’t Fly Anymore glared, and I thought I might have insulted him. “I’m listening. I’m paying attention. No one is going to randomly show up. We’re not being tracked.”
I tried not to give him a dubious expression, but… “Are you sure?”
“Yes. You’re safe.”
I pressed my lips together. “Am I safe from you?”
He blinked.
“I’m kidding,” I whispered, feeling insecure and shy and nervous. “We’re friends, right? Friends aren’t scared of each other.”
That got me one big grunt.
I guess that was as good as I was going to get. “Do you know who might be coming? With the car or whatever?”
“I have an idea.”
So helpful and informative.
I bit my lip, noting how he wasn’t really easing my worry over anything. Honestly, it kind of helped. We weren’t sure how we were going to make this work, how I was going to get my life back, but… I knew he would help me any way he could. At least I was pretty sure. It was what he’d promised. He might be a rude, big turd, but… there was a good heart in there. Or at least a reasonable one. A prideful one.
You didn’t do what he did for money. You didn’t think about being a firefighter for recognition.
I started shaking my leg. “Do you have any siblings?” I asked him in a rush.
He blew out a breath that made his lips make a raspberry sound. “Is talking going to make you quit shaking and being nervous?” he grumbled.
I nodded seriously.
His gaze slid up toward the ceiling. “Yes.”
Yes? “I can’t see you having siblings.” I still couldn’t picture him taking a poop. Had he snuck one in? He had to have gone at some point, but when? I had finally caught him peeing. “A brother or a sister?”
“Both.”
Oh, he’d let me ask two questions. So much information. I wanted to ask where they were, what their names were, if they were close, but maybe I shouldn’t push too much. I should keep it vague and maybe later on ask him more personal stuff before he shut down. Quantity over quality.
I scratched my nose.
“What happened the last time you saw your parents?”
I wasn’t the only one with questions, I guess. He kept catching me off guard with what he paid attention to, too. Which seemed to be everything. “I don’t remember, but from the way my grandparents reacted afterward, I think they got a vibe from my parents that they might have been interested in taking me with them, wherever they were living. The first time we moved was right after that,” I answered. All that had been blurry. I didn’t know for sure that had been the case, but that was right around the time when they’d stopped talking to me about them unless I brought them up. I flexed my hand, then closed it again. “Do you have kids?”
His nose literally scrunched up before he answered with a definite “No.”
Touchy much?
“Why haven’t you had a boyfriend?” he shot back without missing a beat.
I hadn’t seen that shit coming, but okay. “It’s too hard to lie to people you barely care about, much less people you do care about.” Now I sounded like a pathological liar, but that was me. “Do you really not have a girlfriend?”
His eyes narrowed. “No.”
“Huh,” I said, surprised and not surprised at the same time.
That got me a face.
I didn’t mean to smile, but I did.
“What?”
“You’re a very handsome man. I’m sure you know that.”
A muscle in one of his cheeks flexed.
“It’s just—” I sniffled and got myself together. “—when you open your mouth, people realize beauty is only skin deep.” I smiled sweetly at him. “You didn’t get to choose your face. You just got lucky to have your… what did you call them? Superior genes.” I shrugged. “You have no idea how lucky you are to be so special.”
“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
I eyed him, wanting to ask what exactly was so hard about being super-fast, strong, having superior hearing and vision, and being badass. He could fly… or he used to be able to. That was my dream. A dream I would never be able to enjoy because people couldn’t just… fly. If only it was that easy.
Plus, he had almost nothing to be scared of other than what had broken his back, and I wasn’t about to bring that shit up, ever.
I cleared my throat gently. “Can I ask you something else?”
One side of his mouth went flat. “If I say no, you’re still going to ask anyway, aren’t you?”