The room looked significantly nicer and way less depressing with the muscles in his arms, chest, and abs rippling—in duplicate, thanks to that mirror. And then it was nicer still as he kicked off his shoes, and stepped out of his pants and hung them up beside his shirt.
Harry didn’t comment—he was just instantly gone.
“So maybe we can plan to extend our little…whatever this is,” Peter continued, slipping out of his socks as he glanced at her again in the mirror. “Friendship, plus. At least until I can take you someplace with room service. Is that okay with you?”
There were two cheerfully decorated Desert Flower Motel Traveler’s Packs on the worn gold-and-yellow-speckled linoleum sink counter, and he pulled out a toothbrush and small tube of paste and, while continuing to watch her in the mirror, he brushed his teeth.
Shay looked at him standing there in his white boxers, and she found herself blurting, “You’re a really good communicator. I mean, really good. You just demonstrated…”
He spit and rinsed and dropped the toothbrush into a glass with a plastic clatter as he turned back to face her.
Her Navy SEAL.
Harry’s words—but Harry had vanished. Those wereherwords now, God help her. Her Navy SEAL—wearing only white boxers, leaning back against the sink in the motel room where in just a few minutes, they were going to make love.
Shay’s brain stuttered and she started over. “What I mean to say is that some people play games, but you don’t. You ask for what you want. You’re direct, you’re tactful, and you’re honest. I’ve said this before: I don’t know what Lisa’s problem was, but you did everything right—and you still do. You’re funny, you’re smart, you’re kind, and you obviously care. You listen, you pay attention,andyou remember details.”
And oh, my God, look at him—although that was just icing on the cake.
“So…is that ayes?”
“Yes,” she said. “Of course. What other answer would there be?”
He smiled, and dropped his boxers on the floor. “Get naked. I’ll be out in about thirty seconds.”
Good communicator.Goodcommunicator.
As the shower went on, Shayla hung up her clothes, too.
Maddie woke up from a nightmare—her father was screaming at her, like a drill sergeant at boot camp, but then he surprised her completely by bursting into tears—to find herself alone in the back of Dingo’s car.
“Ding?” She sat up, careful not to hit her head, but he wasn’t in the front seat, either. “Dingo!”
“I’m out here,” he called. He was sitting out on the hood of the trunk, leaning up against the back window.
She pushed her way out through the door that didn’t stick, but then reached back in to grab a blanket and wrap it around her. “It’s cold.”
“Yeah, but look at these stars. They’re bright enough to keep me warm.”
The skywaspretty amazing, away from the city’s lights, but still. “Are you high?”
“Only on life, love.”
“What time is it?”
He checked his phone. “Around two thirty.” No, wait, that washerphone.
“Are you pretending to be me again?” she asked.
“No, I was just checking messages,” he said. “You got a bunch of texts. Your dad and Shayla tracked you out here, which is a little alarming. They said we shouldn’t go back to San Diego becausedanger, danger. And although I mock, I wholeheartedly agree. We could call them right now and they’d come meet us, and…I think we should.”
Oh, God. “I’m not ready,” she said.
“There’s really noready,” he pointed out. “This is just something we’ve gotta do. Band-Aid pull.”
“I can’t,” she said. “Not like this. I changed my mind about spending money. I want to get a motel room so we can take showers. I need to take a shower and wash my hair before we…I have to…I don’t care if our clothes smell. We can get some of that stupid freshener spray and—”
“All right,” Dingo said.
