Down was up. Left was right.
This was not how it was supposed to be.
I wasn’t supposed to feel anything.
“Maybe we could watch TV,” I suggested lamely.
Mason adjusted the crotch of his pants and picked up his shirt from the floor, putting it back on. “Yeah. TV. Let’s do that.”
He grabbed the remote and started flipping through the channels. “What do you want to watch?”
“It doesn’t matter to me. Whatever, as long as it’s not football.”
Mason made a horrified face. “No football? Yeah, this isn’t going to work.”
I playfully punched him in the arm. He grabbed my arm and pulled me close again, kissing me. It would be so easy to sink back into him.
To give him everything…
I pulled away. Playing coy. “Oh, it’ll work. I think we’ve proven that.” I had to find my footing again. Being here like this with him was hard. Harder than I had imagined it would be.
Mason’s answering look was unreadable. It was disconcerting. “I hope so” was all he said.
We finally settled on an old episode ofM*A*S*H. I wasn’t a big fan but Mason seemed to enjoy it. He put his arm around my shoulders and I snuggled into his side, pretending to watch the TV.
All the while looking at the room around me. Looking for something.
Anything to read him better.
He wasn’t the only one who could find out about people by focusing on the details.
“Can I use your bathroom?” I asked suddenly.
“Yeah, sure. It’s just down the hallway, last door on the left. How about I make some popcorn? You like popcorn? If not popcorn, how about some chips and salsa? What do you like to eat?” He was still probing. It should have bugged me, but I found myself flattered.
Damn it.
“Popcorn sounds great.”
I made my way to the bathroom, turned on the light, and closed the door without going inside. With a quick glance back toward the living room, I ducked into the only other room—the bedroom.
I turned on the light to find the cat asleep on the bed. He lifted his head and yawned but otherwise paid me no mind.
Listening for Mason, I quickly began to rummage through his belongings. Looking for—
A battered briefcase sat on a chair in the corner.
Could he really be that stupid? Could it be that easy?
I hurried over and picked it up. Opening it, I found it full of case files.
I was having a hard time breathing. Hyperventilation seemed a distinct possibility. Hannah and espionage didn’t go well together, apparently.
I saw a name that immediately caught my attention.
Freedom Overdrive.
Shit.
