Page 73 of Devious Lies (Cruel Crown)
Benkinersophobia: If you think that’s impressive, you should see my side hustle for cash.
Durga: Does it include something soft and small?
Benkinersophobia: And here I thought we were friends…
Benkinersophobia: Hey, Durga?
Durga: Hey, Ben.
Benkinersophobia: Did I make you smile?
Durga: Always.
At the hotel entrance, I swiped my employee card. Panic bit its way up my throat when it wouldn’t work the first time.
No, no, no.
Dipping my head back, I glared at the sky. Angry, dark clouds covered the expanse, no stars in sight.
I have no secrets for you, starless night. I swiped hair out of my eyes, the movement jerky as I glared at the abyss above me, daring it to do its worst. Actually, here’s a secret for you. I’m tired. So fucking tired. Are you happy? Is that what you want?
Pressing my forehead against the glass door, I suppressed a scream. The first mist hit my hair, cheek, neck. It would downpour soon. If I didn’t get inside, I’d be fighting a cold by the morning.
I wiped
the magnetic strip of the card against the inside of my hoodie until it was completely dry.
Swipe.
“Oenomel. Phosphenes. Kilig,” I muttered magic words, hoped they’d grant me good luck, and waited for the red dot to turn green.
It made me wait a solid two seconds before it did. I exhaled, shakier than I wanted to admit. I was okay for one more night.
When I walked into the lobby shoeless and misted with rain, the night guard drew his phone away from his ear and winced at the sight. “Long day?”
“You have no idea,” I managed to mutter.
Joe knew I squatted. He never judged me. Never tattled. Especially since he’d been in this situation himself once before. In another life, I liked to think I would have fallen for someone like him.
The nice guy with the tanned skin, evergreen eyes, and megawatt smile. The hot guy with a rough past who never let it faze him. I’d beg him to kiss me, and he’d give it to me without taunting me for wanting him.
Someone like Reed, I reminded myself, dumbfounded when I realized my childhood crush might have existed because he felt like a safety net.
Four years later, I didn’t want safe. I wanted someone who made my heart pound like getting stuck out in the rain, drifting at sea without a home. Someone who gave me the same thrill as being reckless and taking risks.
Dipping my toes past the rules, seeing how far I could fly before I crossed a line.
With Ben.
With Nash.
The unattainables.
“You’re the last one left.” Joe walked me to the elevator, hand on the taser of his belt. A habit of his that almost made my love for quirks smile. “Mr. Prescott left for dinner with Mrs. Lowell and her husband a few minutes ago. They were dressed nice. The three of them probably won’t be back for a while.”
He winked at me, and I wanted to want him, but I didn’t. Relief hit me fast, two scraggly shoulders sloped forward as I jabbed at the elevator button. Scraping my nails against my palms, I considered hugging Joe for the good news but settled for a wave.
He patted my shoulder and left, lips tilted up as if to say, it won’t always be like this.
