“My phone.” He checked again, as if it might magically appear if he tried hard enough. “I don’t have it.”
I stared at him. “How do you not have your phone?”
He shot me a look. “Because I’m an idiot.”
I exhaled hard through my nose, then immediately checked my own pockets anyway, because if we were turning back upstairs, I wasn’t about to do it twice.
Mine was there.
His eyes darted toward the elevators. “I think I left it plugged in by the bed.”
“Do you even need it?” I asked.
His brow furrowed. “I feel naked without it.”
I chuckled. “Okay, let’s go get it.”
We cut back toward the elevators, and I tried not to look toward the front desk again.
I failed.
The spot where the stranger had been standing was now occupied by someone else, and whoever that guy was had disappeared.
And now that I was thinking about it again, a flash of something made my brain lurch, a memory of salt air, music, and bare feet on sand, a bar in St. John where we’d been laughing too hard and drinking too fast, and a guy who didn’t belong anywhere near Faye.
My pace stuttered.
Dylan’s voice dropped. “What?”
“That’s where,” I muttered, then caught myself because I wasn’t about to spiral in the middle of a lobby. “St. John.”
“St. John what?”
“The guy I saw a minute ago was that Callum dude.”
Dylan looked around. “Are you fucking serious?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s him.”
“Where’s he now?”
I searched again, but didn’t see him. “I don’t know.”
We both sucked in a sharp breath, our eyes widening, and we said at the same time, “Faye!”
We raced for the elevators, and I pressed the call button repeatedly until the doors finally opened. We stepped inside.
Dylan swiped his room key, jabbed the button for our floor, and turned toward me as the doors slid shut. His jaw tightened. “If it’s him, why would he be here?”
I didn’t have an answer that didn’t twist my stomach.
The elevator stopped, the doors opened, and we hurried down the hallway.
I expected quiet. Maybe a couple walking from their room.
Instead, a man was at our door.
He wasn’t dressed like hotel staff, and it wasn’t Callum. He wore dark clothes and was kicking at the door. He looked up quickly at the sound of our steps, but he didn’t back off. If anything, he kicked harder.
