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It better be good. Walking to the door, I leave a trail of wet footprints across the floor.
I yank it open.
Dressed up as if he just came from downtown, Francisco spins around to face me.
His eyes lock mine in a second.
“Did you find her?” he rasps without the slightest introduction.
“No,” I deadpan, pivoting away, avoiding his stare.
He walks behind me and closes the door while I go straight to the minibar. I fix a drink for myself.
“Do you want something to drink?” I ask in response to his silence.
Our eyes meet again. It’s going to be challenging to pull this one off. Francisco knows me well, and he knows how determined I am when it comes to anything, especially her.
He knows how I never give up.
He also knows how to read me and picks up on non-verbal clues as fast as Kai. And right now, I’m brimming with them.
My body talks the most. The tension, the swagger. That sexual vibe draped over me. There’s nothing I can do to hide it.
And what’s worse…
What’s fucking worse is that there are no women. I can’t spin this story the way I want. I can’t say I was out and fucked someone. And for sure, I don’t look like someone who was about to fall asleep.
“Francisco?” I murmur when his stare goes blank.
“Huh?”
His focus sharpens.
“Do you want a drink?”
He clicks his tongue.
“No. I’m fine. Where were you?” he asks curtly.
He must suspect the shitty truth. That I went behind their backs, located her, and fucked her.
And now I’m fighting that very truth, which I am.
How does he know? I have no idea.
But I see it in his averted gaze. He doesn’t look at me as if he’s affected, hurt, or something.
There we go…
This might go to hell faster than I thought.
I take a sip.
“I drove around. Went up the coast. Came back. Went to a bar. Shit like that.”
He moves his eyes to me.
“Uh-huh.”
