Page 55 of Even After This
“On the bed.” I close one of the doors and inspect behind it for stray clothing.
“My cell is the best way to get ahold of me, but I’m also going to add Penelope’s information. If you can’t find me, she’ll know how to track me down.”
I gasp. Hiding under the bath mat is my beloved pair of one hundred percent cotton, faded pink granny panties. They’re so industrial they should be called underwear, not panties. But they are shockingly comfortable. No one makes ’em like these anymore.
“She’s not that bad,” he says. “I thought you two buried the hatchet.”
I glance at Harlan, and he bites his lip while he punches data into my phone. “Um, no. Penelope’s great. I, uh, found something I forgot to pack.”
“Oh, good. What was it?” he asks, staring at the screen.
“Nothing.” I scurry past him to shove the precious commodity underneath every other item in my luggage.
He stabs at my phone, his brows drawn.
“Is it giving you problems?” I nod toward my cell.
“It’s kind of special, isn’t it. What’s going on with this thing?”
“I did some research. Apparently the screen is losing sensitivity and only works when and how it wants to.” I kind of wish it had spontaneously stopped working when I was talking to Molly. “I’ll get it fixed when I get home.”
He continues to work on the phone, then smirks. “Programming my chosen ringtone took a little longer. But it’s worth it.”
“What?” I dive to grab my phone, but Harlan’s long arm keeps it at a safe distance. “What song did you choose?”
His eyes glitter. “You’ll just have to wait until I call you.”
Something in my belly flips. He’s calling. Me.
Harlan grins.
My belly flips again. Swinging on the chandelier isn’t so bad.
Once I zip my suitcase closed, Harlan pulls it off the bed. I take one last glance around the room, spread my arms out, and drop them. “I guess it’s time.”
He wheels my luggage down the hallway as if it doesn’t weigh eighty-three pounds. When we arrive at the elevator, he pushes the down arrow.
“Um.” I adjust my purse on my shoulder. “I wanted to let you know I’ve thought about it, and I’m not going to cyberstalk you.”
Despite pursing his lips, he can’t hide his smile. “Thank you, I think?”
“If this is going to be a normal relationship, I need to treat you like you’re a normal person. I know you like to lay low and that you want this whole Hometown Hercules thing to calm down. But if it doesn’t, I’m not going to check out TMZ to find out where you are. I won’t follow your fans on Twitter. I will ignorePeople,Us, and theNational Enquirer. That way, when we do interact, we get to be whatever we want us to be.”
The doors open. I take two steps in and turn around.
Harlan stands frozen, watching me.
I stretch my arm to hit the button that holds the doors open.
He shakes his head. “Sorry. I—Thank you. That’s thoughtful.” The elevator buzzes its impatience, and he rolls my belongings inside.
Turning to him, I point my finger. “If you break your leg, it’s going to start trending immediately. Please find a way to let me know you’re okay.”
“I will.” He runs a hand through his hair. “But if you don’t hear from me, it doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about you.”
“Oh.” If I don’t hear from him? “Okay.”
A pang of insecurity zings through my chest just as we hit theground floor. Harlan puts an arm out to direct me, and we walk around the corner, pausing a few feet from the concierge.
