I was too exposed.
My insides were twisting around. He wasn’t going to tell me. I knew him. I blurted out all those questions for no reason. He wouldn’t let me in. He wouldn’t share, and I was slowly dying of embarrassment.
I needed to get out. Now. I needed to get away from him.
Retreat. Back up. Run!
“Anyways.” Thank goodness, my voice came out chipper and upbeat, so not what I was feeling. I shouldered past him. “I’m hungry. You ready to go?”
I got two steps. His hand touched my arm. I tried to pull free, pretending it wasn’t there, but it only tightened, and he drew me back to him. Not all the way to him. Oh no, because that would’ve helped. I think? Maybe not. He pulled me just enough so it was still mortifying as he was looking down at me. I could feel the concern from his eyes, even though I wasn’t looking. I looked, and I’d fold. It was taking everything in me to keep from lifting my head up, so I kept my eyes trained on his chest.
He shifted closer.
So not helping.
His hand began running up and down my arm, soothing, feeling nice, and the flutters were back. Damn it.
“Look.”
No. If I did, I was a goner.
“I know things are in a weird place between us.”
I wanted to scoff. “Weird” was putting it mildly. But I kept my lips pressed tight. No sound came out.
He tugged me even farther in, until my head was against his chest. That hand moved to my back, and his other arm wrapped around me, resting on the small of my back. He began rubbing up and down.
Did that have to feel so good?
He rested his chin on top of my head, then turned so it was his cheek instead. “I know you have questions about me. I know last night was intense.” His arms tightened around me. “I know there’s a lot of other shit happening right now. Just, trust me?” He pulled back. His finger was under my chin, and he tipped my face up. Our eyes met. His hand moved to cup my cheek and his thumb smoothed over it. “I want to get these assholes, and then you and me, we’ll figure everything out. Okay?”
I didn’t know what that meant, but he was so fierce. I whispered back, “Okay.”
He dipped his head, his lips finding mine, and I gave in.
I was gone.
THIRTY-TWO
“We are never going to find these kids.”
I elbowed Matt later that night, tiptoeing through the mausoleum. Why I was tiptoeing, I had no clue. The seeker in this game didn’t need to be secretive, but there we were, at nine at night. After two large pizzas, after Ferdinand had been watched, after Marie and Theresa went home, after the night nanny was on duty, Kash had the brilliant idea to play hide-and-seek.
Seraphina and Cyclone squealed and took off.
And two seconds after they were gone, Matt rounded on Kash. “Are you kidding?! You grew up here too. This place has a million hiding spots. And we’re trying to get them to bed.”
Kash gave him a smug look. “Relax. What do you think happens to a hyper kid after pizza, swimming, a movie, and he has to stay in the same position while waiting to be found? He falls asleep.” He smacked the back of Matt’s head. “You’re it.”
“Hey!” Matt glared, ducking his head down, but Kash was heading down another hallway. “Hey! Where are you going?”
“Hiding.” Kash didn’t look back, jogging and turning another corner.
“We are really screwed if we have to find that guy.”
Kash’s idea was solid. I tapped Matt’s wrist, jerking my head forward. “Come on. Kids usually aren’t too brilliant about where they hide. Under beds, behind doors, behind a post.”
Matt snorted, trailing after me. “You’ve never played this game with a little genius.”
I started to laugh, but then stopped. He was right.
“Yeah. See.” Matt was reading my face. “This was a bad idea. It’ll take us hours to find ’em, and how do we know if they’re still alive by then? They could be hiding in a freezer. Or—”
I clamped a hand over his mouth, and on the echoes of his voice, there it was. Giggles.
Hearing it, Matt’s eyebrows shot up.
Turning. Turning. Pinpointing where those giggles came from. Bull’s-eye.
Then I crapped myself. The laundry chute.
“Oh my God!” Sprinting to the wall, I flung open the cupboard that led to the laundry chute downstairs.
“Cyclone!” Matt lunged for him.
He was wedged inside the chute, his hands and feet braced against the other side so he didn’t fall. “Aw, man. Seriously? You guys found me too quick.” And with a quick grin, just as Matt’s arms started to go for under his arms, he let go.
“Cyclone!”
We heard a “Catch me later, losers!” all the way down, until a thud.
“Curt!” Matt yelled down.
I was right next to him. “Cyclone!”
I couldn’t—ohmygodohmygodohmygod—and then Kash hollered up, “I got him.”
“Fuck’s sakes. How’d he know?”
Kash answered Matt. “Little punk found me one time hiding in the same spot.” He was laughing. “I hadn’t fully filled out by then. Can’t believe he remembered.”
I couldn’t get air in for a full beat. Then I lost it, curling my hands over the edge and leaning down, “Some of us are human, Kash! We can’t scale buildings and jump over fences and we don’t keep all our limbs if we fall down a two-story laundry chute.”
Matt’s lips pressed together.
“I’m fine, Bailey! I mean it.” Did he have to sound so happy, too?
I replied to Cyclone. “Just be safe!”
“I will. Promise, promise, promise.”
Matt whispered, “That’s the ultimate promise in this house. He’ll be careful.”
A second later, from Kash: “We’re going to hide again. Come find us.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Kash.
I had security send me the footage. Seraphina is already asleep in the movie room. Go and have a drink with Matt in the bar. Be there as soon as Cy falls asleep.
Relief flooded me. I nudged Matt, showing him. “This is why adults should always have a plan in every game.” Then, “You guys have your own bar?”
How had I missed that in the tour?
* * *
It was an actual bar. A long, sleek counter ran down the length of the wall.
Matt went behind it, pouring a drink. He slid it over to me, nodding at one of the stools. “The most family time we’ve had has been this week.” He leaned back against the wall, pointing his drink to me. “Because of you.”
“You serious?”
He nodded, slowly. “Why do you think Ser and Cyclone took to you so fast? Marie stays longer. Theresa sticks around. I’m here. Kash was around today. It’s all been you.”
“You called him Curt before. Is that Cyclone’s name?”
I knew, but I wanted to actually be told that. It seemed like information that should’ve been spoken, not read on a computer screen or in a file.
A second nod.
He was studying the bottom of his glass now. “Yeah. Quinn used to call him that. ‘My little Cyclone.’” His mouth tipped up. “Name stuck because, you know.” He looked up now. “The ADHD stuff.”