I open the lid to the ice machine and find a scoop mostly submerged in the ice. When I reach for it, I can’t help but think about all the other hands that have touched it and the ice inside. Good thing I don’t plan on doing anything with it besides dumping it down the sink once it melts.
I have to chip away at the crusted ice to even get any out. I find myself stabbing the shovel into the depths over and over a few times, releasing a little of my frustration.
With my bucket full, I turn to exit and slam right into someone coming through the door. The bucket gets smashed between us then drops to the floor, spilling ice everywhere.
“Shit.” I shake off my hand, dispelling cold water droplets, before staring into a pair of impossibly light blue eyes.
“Are you stalking me?” One side of his mouth curls up in a taunting grin.
“No,” I blurt and shake my head for good measure.
He leans in so our faces are close together. “I wouldn’t mind if you were.”
“I’m not,” I deny again.
“I’ll chalk it up to good fortune. We can continue our conversation.” The way he’s looking at me says he’d like to do more than talk, and I have to admit my heart rate quickens just thinking about it.
“Lethe!” I hear my mom’s voice, just on the edge of panic, calling down the hall, heedless of the fact that it’s late and people might be sleeping in the rooms.
“Crap.” I shimmy past him to get closer to the door.
There’s a tug on the back of my shirt. “I’m in Room 333. Come find me when you can sneak away, Lethe.” He releases me, and I almost stumble out of the alcove. In that moment, I realize that’s not the first time he’s said my name, but how would he have known it before just now? On the sidewalk, he said,Bye, Lethe. I’ll see you soon.
“There you are. I thought… Never mind, is everything okay?” She scans me from head to toe. “Your cheeks are pink. Have you been crying?” She wilts.
“No,” I reply and take a few steps toward her. I don’t want her going into the little room and finding him. “I dropped the bucket. I was bending over to clean up my mess.”
“Oh, honey.” She looks at the floor, where I know there are a few pieces of stray ice cubes melting on the carpet. “Do you need help?” She starts to pass me.
“No! I’ve got it.” I’m too loud, too quick to dismiss her, and she studies me. “I just want to go back to the room. I got most of it,” I lie.
“Okay,” she agrees, still eyeing the ice on the floor. She’s probably torn between giving into what I want and cleaning up my mess. Thankfully, she wraps her arm around my shoulders and walks with me back down the hall. I catch sight of him as we turn to enter the room. He’s leaning against the wall, watching us. I can’t see his features from this far, but something tells me he’s smiling.
CHAPTER8
My dad has been snoring for at least half an hour. I have no idea if my mom is asleep though, so I push the covers back as quietly as I can and slink from the bed. If she says anything, I’ll just tell her I was going to the bathroom. I pocketed an extra room key before climbing under the covers earlier, but I feel for it in my pants just to be sure.
The sound of me pushing the extra lock at the top of the door to the side is soft, but not silent. I look back over my shoulder. The room is pitch black, so I can’t see anything, nor do I hear anyone stirring. Thankfully, Dad is still snoring away.
As soon as the door is open enough from me to escape, I slink through the gap and make sure to close the door as quietly as I can. Standing there, I breathe hard for several long seconds as I wait for my mom to come tearing out the door looking for me. When she doesn’t, I walk down the long hall, checking over my shoulder before I turn in the direction that will take me to Room 333.
The door is cracked open. He’s using what should be the security lock to keep it propped ajar. My heart starts beating even faster. Am I really going to do this? I take one step backward, then I think about Corey, wondering what she might do if she still had the chance, and it bolsters my confidence. You only live once, right?
The door creaks with an eerie sound as I push it open. “Hello?” I whisper into the darkness. As I step inside, the door closes behind me, snapping into place and leaving me locked inside.
“I was beginning to wonder if I was going to have to come kidnap you.” His deep voice filters over to me.
I think about telling him I have the wrong room and running back to mine, but he clicks on the bedside lamp, revealing himself leaning against the headboard. He squints as if the light hurts his eyes, and it makes me wonder if he was sleeping.
“My mom doesn’t want to let me out of her sight.”
“Can’t say I blame her, though I think we have different reasons to watch you. Mine is certainly not at all maternal.” He pats the bed right next to where he’s sitting, inviting me over. He’s still dressed in his black shirt and jeans from earlier, but his shoes are gone.
I shuffle a little closer and climb on the bed. I’m not nearly as close as he motioned for, but still near enough. “If you really aren’t stalking me, how did you end up here?” he questions.
“My neighbors were murdered,” I tell him bluntly. “My parents don’t think it’s safe at home.”
“Should I be afraid formywell-being around you?” he mocks with a gleam of excitement in his eyes.
