Hugging it against my chest, I turned toward my bedroom.
“What are you doing now?”
I didn’t answer, just rushed into my tiny bedroom and crawled halfway under the bed, feeling around for the box I kept hidden. The second my hands found it, I fell onto the floor in relief.
“If you’re looking for Narnia, you’ve got the wrong piece of furniture,” Hiro quipped, and I rolled my head to see his bare feet standing in front of the bed.
Seeing the hem of his sweats reminded me I was completely naked.
“Okay, that’s enough of that,” Hiro announced and wrapped his hands around my ankles to tow me from beneath the bed. The second I appeared, his eyes went right to the box I was clutching. “Oooh, what’s that?”
“Why are you so nosy?” I asked. And why did he have to be here to witness me scavenging around my apartment like some kind of feral creature?
“I’m emotionally invested.” The statement was glib, but it fluttered my heart with hope.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Your business is like one giant plot twist. So what’s in the box?”
Not emotionally invested, then. Just plain nosy.
It hurt my feelings, and I rolled over and sat up, putting my back to him. “Nothing.”
“I’ve never seen anyone dive under their bed completely naked for nothing.”
My hands itched to open the lid, to reassure myself that my most prized possessions were unharmed and safe. But I couldn’t. Not while he was standing over me, gaping.
I shook the box a little, everything inside shifting.See? Everything is in there. He didn’t find it.
It was comforting but not enough. I still wanted to see it all with my eyes.
Hiro plucked the box out of my arms like it was no big deal and had the lid open before I could even protest.
“Hey!” I scrambled up but stopped the second I saw him staring inside. Heat rushed to my face, the tips of my ears flamed, and the urge to crawl back under the bed presented an alarmingly good case.
“What is this?” His eyes flicked to mine before going right back to the contents.
“Nothing,” I insisted, lunging to grab it away.
He lifted it above my head and tsked.
“Give it back,” I implored.
“In a minute,” he hedged, reaching in to pull out a couple hundred-dollar bills. He glanced between me and the cash and then exchanged it for two pieces of paper.
My throat was tight, eyes burning, as I watched his stare scan the words and then rise to me. His expression was completely unreadable but so intense that I bit my lip.
“You kept this?”
I said nothing. No point in confirming what he could clearly see. Yes, I kept the notes he wrote from the motel room. I kept the last few hundreds from the stash he’d left behind. I even?—
“What’s in here?” he asked, placing the box on the corner of my bed to lift out another small container.
“Don’t open th—” I rushed forward, but it was too late.
He popped the lid and then screwed his face back with a pained expression. “Hooty-hoo, that smells so bad I just lost vision in my right eye.”
“Just give it to me,” I insisted, reaching for it.
