13. Savannah
“What do you mean, a change of plans?” Ben whisper-shouted into his phone.
I’d used the ladies’ room inside the convenience store where we’d stopped for gas. I’d stepped outside to find our rental car in a parking spot by the door, and Ben leaning against it, scowling.
I waited on the curb, giving him some semblance of privacy. He turned his back to me, and I didn’t catch any more of the conversation. A minute later, he took the phone away from her ear, tapped the screen, typed into it, and turned to face me.
“Mai can’t make it,” he said.
We were supposed to meet her in just over an hour. I shook my head in confusion.
“She’s back in the States but is being held up with a tricky debrief.”
I wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but I was very sure I didn’t want to know the details. That was a good thing because Mai would probably never be at liberty to share them.
“So what’s next?” I asked. Since I’d contacted her days ago, Mai had been the beacon lighting my way to safety. I didn’t have a backup plan, and my mind was scrambling to process this new development.
“She’s sending someone from her team to meet you and fly you to DC on a private plane.”
As much as I didn’t want to return to the area where I’d watched my mother die, I knew it had always been a possibility. The greater DC area was Mai’s home base.
“Okay,” I said. Was it, though? Probably. Mai wouldn’t put me in the hands of anyone dangerous. Well, no one more dangerous than her brother, and that had nothing to do with harm to my person or my business.
“Mai says she trusts these people with her life.” Ben shrugged. “But I don’t know them, so… Sorry, you’ll be stuck with me a while longer.”
“But your interview—”
“I already sent a text to reschedule.”
I glanced into the store, around the small parking lot, down at my feet. Anything not to meet his eyes. I’d decided first thing that morning not to discuss last night unless and until he brought it up. Given our second day of barely speaking, it appeared he’d made the same decision. But avoiding the elephant parked in the back seat of the car with us had exhausted me. I didn’t know how I could do it for a few more minutes, let alone another few hours or possibly days. Like it or not, we had to clear the air.
“About last night—” we both said at the same time.
“Finally,” he said, “we’re on the same page.”
I hoped that was true. I stepped down off the curb and joined him beside the rental car, leaning against the back driver’s side window while he leaned on the front. “You go first.”
“Okay. First, I need to say I’m sorry.”
That was not what I’d hoped to hear. “I’m not sorry. Frankly, I’m happy for the closure. And also, it was pretty… I mean, I haven’t dated in a while, and it… From a purely physical perspective…” I covered my face with my hand. “I’m not describing this well.”
“It’s okay.” He quirked up one side of his mouth. “I get the concept of super-horny.”
I blushed. “Did I say super?”
“You implied super.”
“But it’s not like I was going to jump the next attractive guy I saw or something. We were always good at that part of the relationship.”
“Yes, we were. And still are.”
I stared at his mouth, wondering how wrong it would be to kiss him right now, seeing as we were admitting to how good last night had been.
“I feel the same way about it giving us closure,” he said. “It’s definitely a better way to say goodbye than last time. But I was saying sorry because I was careless. About protection.”
“Protec—oh, did I not say I’m still on the pill?” I rubbed my hand over my forehead. “I could have sworn I told you.”
He shook his head. “But it’s on me. I didn’t ask. You knew we were being safe. I didn’t. But reason just flew out the window the second you…” He closed his eyes, maybe to remember more clearly, or maybe hoping to forget. “I get stupid when I’m around you. It’s no excuse, just the reality. It’s always been that way for me. So, I’m sorry.” He took a step back, signaling the end of our conversation but also putting more distance between us.
“What’s that sports term? No harm, no foul.” And no way should we spend any more time together. “Listen, I know the original end goal of the mission was to deliver me to Mai, but if she trusts the people she’s sending for me, I trust them. You should get back to your life. Keep your interview.”
“Like I said, I don’t know them, so this is nonnegotiable. I screw up most things, but this won’t be one of them.”
“Screw up?” Was that the vice admiral’s voice I heard behind those words?
Mai had confided in me many times over the years that she knew how differently her dad had treated them. She’d been offended that he’d obviously held her to a lower standard than her younger brother because she was a girl. I’d been so righteously indignant on her behalf, but I hadn’t stopped to consider what that must have done to Ben. Even when we’d dated, we’d never discussed it. Then again, we had spent more time naked than clothed that summer, so there weren’t a lot of topics we’d discussed in depth.
“You interrupted your whole life to help me,” I reminded him now. “You’re a good man, Ben, and I’m truly grateful. But I’ve taken up enough of your time.”
He straightened and peered down at me, brooking no refusal. “One thing I always do right is finish a mission, and until you’re safe, this one isn’t done.” He walked around to my side of the car and opened the door. When he spoke again, his tone was softer. “Please let me do this.”
I followed him and slid into the passenger seat and clicked on my seat belt. He closed the door firmly, putting a fine point on the agreement. Mission aside, I wanted to make him see the truth about himself, but when he climbed into the driver’s seat, I knew the moment had passed. And there was something else, something now so obvious that I’d never before wanted to see. There was a piece of Ben that was broken. I hadn’t done the damage, and I didn’t know how to fix it.