Page 114 of Ex Somnis

I feel my face heat. “Don’t make this weird, please.”

“I made it honest.”

I groan and drag both hands over my face. “Jesus Christ.”

The road curves gently ahead of us. Morning sunlight slips through the trees in long strips of yellow, and for a while, neither of us says anything.

I keep my gaze out the window, mostly because looking at Paul feels dangerous right now. He’s been way too nice to me since he rescued me from death by concrete.

The inn appears through the trees a few minutes later, the sign swinging gently in the breeze.

Something in my chest eases.

Home.

But then I think of Lennon in Paul’s house, and I’m not so sure that’s true anymore.

“You’re my tether.”

I don’t know exactly what that means yet, but I do know how it felt when she said it. Something in my chest clicked over, like a key finding a lock I didn’t know was there.

Paul parks in the gravel lot and turns to me, looking me over. “You look better.”

“Yeah.” I flex my hands, which have finally relaxed enough to appear normal. “I feel better.”

Paul nods like that’s what he hoped to hear.

I clear my throat. “I don’t think I’ve said it yet, but thanks for the rescue⁠—”

“Yeah,” he cuts me off, reaching for the door handle with a smirk. “Don’t make this weird.

Before I can respond, he’s already out of the car. I stare after him through the windshield, then climb out and follow him.

We head inside the inn, and Simon looks up when the door opens. His face does its usual neutral to neutral-with-slightly-less-neutrality when he clocks Paul beside me.

“Morning,” I greet.

“Morning.” He glances at Paul. “Dr. Bennett.”

Paul gives him a small nod. “Simon.”

Oookay?

“How’s it looking?” I ask.

“Quiet.” Simon turns back to me. “Four guests, the Whitmore group. They pre-booked dinner but came down to cancel. Apparently, they want to drive the coast and try somewhere local.” He tilts his head toward the kitchen. “Sydney’s running breakfast service, and I’ve been helping her out a little.”

“Sounds like you have it under control.”

“Everything’s fine, yes. You can enjoy your vacation.”

“Right.” I rub the back of my neck. “Thanks.”

Simon nods once and goes back to whatever he was doing before we interrupted him.

Paul falls into step beside me as we head toward the back corridor. “Vacation?”

I groan. “That’s what Marcus called it when I told him I’d take a few days off. Unpaid vacation.”