Page 49 of Love In Hiding

“Whatever you choose to do, I think it’d be smart right now to call it a lapse in judgment and move on. Don’t you agree?”

She turned to make eye contact with him while they were at a light. “Yeah, sure. Let’s agree.”

Only he was positive she didn’t.

14

BLENDS TOGETHER

“How did the trip go?” Paris asked the second London walked through the door of their apartment.

“Fine,” London muttered, rolling her suitcase straight to the laundry room like she was on a mission. She unzipped it, grabbed the separate bag Spencer had been thoughtful enough to buy for both of them, untied it, and flipped it upside down to dump everything at once.

Paris’s eyebrows rose. “Doesn’tsoundfine. I thought for sure you’d come home wired.” She took one step closer, then recoiled. “Ew. Whatisthat stench?”

“Fish. Or more specifically…lobster. Maybe lobster guts. Honestly? I have no damn clue. The plant reeked, and I spent three days marinating in it. Then two nights trapped in a tiny old hotel room…not alone.”

Paris blinked. “What? What do you mean,not alone?”

London pinched the bridge of her nose. The tension from the trip still lived there like a headache that wouldn’t unclench.

“The car ride back to the airport was bad enough. I wasso on edge I nearly broke the speed limit trying to get us there faster.”

Paris leaned against the doorframe, eyes narrowing. “Us?”

“Spencer,” London sighed. “We shared a room. Long story. Long, horrible story.”

Did she want to admit the rest? The awkward waiting area, the short flight home, sitting inches from him while he put in earbuds, shut his eyes, and disappeared into his own world. She’d matched him, pretending sleep just to avoid the pull of his presence.

It was for the best. Definitely for the best.

Because the moment they split off outside the airport to find their separate taxis, relief hit her so hard she almost cried in the backseat.

Almost. She’d never admit how close it was.

Then her sister would know how truly hard the last three days hit her.

But she asked herself why she was trying to hide anything from the only person on earth who knew her better than herself. Who joked she could feel the same emotions.

At least Paris wasn’t pulling that card and was giving her time to say it on her own.

“We’ve got time for this long, horrible story. Start with the hotel. Why did you share a room?”

“Because some incompetent staff member thought the reservation was for one room with two queen beds, rather than two rooms, one queen bed.”

“Oh. And they couldn’t get it fixed?”

“Obviously not,” she snapped.

Paris put her hands up. London threw a laundry pod into the washer and started it, then walked out. “Sorry.Don’t take it out on me. I’m assuming there were no other hotels?”

“We were in an inn. Sixty rooms. The next closest place was over an hour away. So no.”

“Well, it’s not like Spencer is a horrible person. I’m sure he was professionally polite and got on your last nerve being that way. You probably annoyed him more than he did you, but he’d keep it locked in tight.”

“I need a shower,” she said. “I still stink, don’t I? I swear people were shying away from Spencer and me on the plane. I bought some body spray and spritzed it in the air when we left, then walked under it a few times.”

“You don’t really stink, but your clothes did.”