Chapter 25
Harlyn
“Uh…” I look around for some semblance of privacy in the lobby. I don’t trust myself to be alone with Boone. I feel like I’m only seconds away from begging him not to drop Hayzel’s case or me.
“Come on.” He lifts his hand in the direction of the bank of elevators.
Grasping for straws, I remind him, “What about your car?” while allowing myself to be towed along behind him just by his presence.
“It’s fine. They gave me at least fifteen minutes to register.” That makes me feel a little better, since there’s a limit to how long he can be here. Plus, half that time has already been eaten up. He can probably say anything he wants to me in the elevator.
I see myself wringing my hands in the shiny surface of the doors after Boone pushes the up button and force myself to drop my arms to my sides, so I don’t look crazy. Crazy… I can’t believe he called me crazy.
After a soft ding, the brassy doors peel back, revealing a glass lift that overlooks the large atrium. Stepping inside, I get a good look at the shops and restaurants stationed throughout the different levels.
My stomach drops as we ascend quickly, then it flops when we bounce to a stop on the eighth floor.
I go to step out, but Boone grabs my hand, tugging me back as another couple enters the car.
I retreat out of habit, bumping my shoulder into Boone’s arm in the process.
I start to pull my fingers from his, but he tightens his grip, so I stop resisting. I’m not going to make a scene.
I do the weird flat smile head nod thing that happens when you get too close to strangers and look into their face, then I internally scold myself for doing it. Boone steps forward, urging me with him as the elevator bounces again, this time on the eleventh floor.
As soon as the door closes and we’re alone, I yank my hand out of his, causing Boone to look down at me. “What’s the room number?” I look at the little plaque on the wall with arrows and numbers.
“This way.” He heads to the left.
“You’ve been here before?” The question comes out snarky.
“No, just read the sign,” is his simple response, but it still manages to irk me.
“What did you want to talk about?” I quicken my pace to catch up with him, hoping to get it over with before we reach the room.
“Here we go.” He slides a card out of the folded paper he’s holding. When the light turns green, he pushes down on the handle, then he presents me with the card while stepping over the threshold to hold the door open for me.
“Boone, what did you want to talk about?” I don’t even bother looking at the room, just turn to face him again, but I’m forced to hurry backward when he encroaches on my space and lets the door slam closed behind him.
“I’m Boone again?”
“Special Agent Landry,” I amend, internally cursing myself for the slipup. He strolls right past me, poking his head into the bathroom then the main area. “You don’t need to babysit me,” I remind him.
“I’m not. I’m checking the place out. Might be the nicest room I’ve ever stayed in.” He drops to sit on the end of one of the beds.
I look around, noting it’s nothing special, before his words sink in. I narrow my eyes. “You should probably get back to your car before they tow it.”
“Nah, the valet parked it, or he will anyway. Speaking of….” He gets up to walk over to the little table between the beds and picks up the phone before examining the receiver.
Boone hits a button or two. “Hey, I just checked in. Yeah, that’s me.
Room 1137, last name Landry. Keys are in it. Yup, thanks.”
He hangs up the phone, and I work on closing my mouth before he can turn around to see me gaping. “What are you doing?” I start to pace in the small area in front of the beds.
“Making sure my car doesn’t get towed. Thanks for reminding me.” He sits back down on the bed.
“I mean why are you having them park it?”
He tilts his head to the side and narrows his eyes as he examines me. I freeze, remembering just who and what he is. He’s probably analyzing everything I do. “I’d like to talk about what happened.” His tone makes it seem like he’s asking if that’s okay, but I doubt I have a choice.
“And if I say I don’t want to talk about it?”
He shrugs one big shoulder before kicking off his shoes and lifting his legs to rest on the bed. “Then I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
How can that be exactly what I want to hear and make me mad at the same time? “Fine, tell me what you want to say.” I cross my arms over my chest then drop them when I realize how defensive the posture is.
Boone lifts one thick blond eyebrow, proving he sees way too much. “First, I want you to know me working on Hayzel’s case isn’t predicated by what happens between us. That’s not how I work.”
“Okay,” I agree bullishly, because as much as I thought that was what I wanted to hear, apparently, it’s not.
“Second… Can you sit down?”
I look around, seeing the few options I have, and take the club chair near the window. It puts the most distance between us, and I fear I need it. I’m not sure where this is going.
“Second?” I prompt when he doesn’t continue.
“Well, to be honest, I don’t really know where to start. It went from zero to sixty really fast.”
That doesn’t sound encouraging.
“You didn’t say anything last night,” he remarks, reminding me about the text.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Were you planning on telling me you went through my phone?”
“Wait a minute.” I hold up my hands. “I didn’t go through your phone.
I accidently, whether you believe me or not, opened a notification.
I didn’t know what to say to Liv because everything I typed out seemed like it was too much, but not enough at the same time, so I was rubbing my finger across the screen to keep it awake while I was thinking. ”
“Okay,” he concedes, but I still don’t think he really believes me. “Even if that were the case, you admitted you went back and read through the old messages.”
“I did, and I’m going to be really honest here.
The only reason I feel even remotely bad is because I know your phone contains sensitive stuff, but that message, the first message, wasn’t work related, nor were the ones above it.
I mean, you wouldn’t have been curious if you saw something like that on my phone right after…
” I don’t say we just had sex, because that doesn’t seem like a big enough word, especially considering the situation. I told him I wanted more than a romp.
Boone looks away, but it doesn’t hide the scowl on his face. “The messages were old,” he defends, avoiding answering my question.
“Old? By hours?”
“Not those. I said no to that. I meant the ones from before.” He grips the back of his neck, still not making eye contact with me. He may be the expert, but I know guilt when I see it.
“You didn’t say no. You asked for a rain check.”
Boone winces ever so slightly. “Okay, yeah, I can see how you would think that was bad.”
“How I would think that was bad? Implying you don’t or wouldn’t if you were in my shoes?”
“I didn’t mean it that way. It was just the quickest way to answer without giving an explanation I didn’t have time nor the desire to provide.”
“So you’re okay with someone else thinking they have something going on with you, and not in an abstract way, because clearly…
” I wave my hands, implying it’s happened before.
“Because you don’t want to take the time and energy to say no?
There are several ways you could have answered that text that wouldn’t have left the window open, but you did.
Maybe you wanted to keep all your options on the table. ”
“No,” he replies with a scoff of disbelief.
“Okay, then tell me why you asked for a rain check.”
“I just told you. I answered the simplest way I knew how in the moment. It wasn’t even a thought for me to reschedule. I hadn’t thought about her at all until she texted, and even then, she wasn’t important enough to deal with at the time.”
“But it isn’t just dealing with her, it clearly also affects me.”
“It wouldn’t have if you hadn’t looked through my phone.”
“Ah… and there it is. Instead of taking responsibility, it becomes my fault.”
Boone’s mouth opens, but nothing other than air escapes for a long breath, until he finally says, “That isn’t… No, it’s not your fault,” but his denial comes too late.
“I know I shouldn’t have looked at your phone, but the truth is, presented with the same situation, I would probably do it again.
I tried to make excuses why I shouldn’t be upset.
We just met, no boundaries have been set, and you didn’t outright accept her invitation to meet up, but that’s not good enough, because I would never do that to you, which means you should never do it to me. ”
Boone meets my stare head-on, but his gaze holds something that wasn’t there before—understanding.
Boone
It takes Harlyn laying it out like I’m a toddler for me to actually get why what I did was a big deal. It is a big deal. “You’re right,” I admit, my voice tight with emotion. “If I would have seen the messages, it would have bothered me.”
Harlyn tips her head back until it hits the cushion behind her, but she says nothing in response to my confession. I feel the need to fill the silence, but I’m not sure what else to say.
I’m still a little irritated that she read my messages, even after knowing I would likely do the same. Hell, I got territorial when she was talking with the hotel clerk. If it crossed my mind that she might have been willing to arrange a future hookup, I probably would have blown up.
“Why didn’t you say anything last night?”
She averts her eyes from me, pretending to find something out the window interesting. “Scared, I guess.” She shrugs.
“You’re scared of me?” Damn, I don’t like hearing that.