Hidden Hope (Hidden Saga Book 3) (13 page)

I’d tried everything I could think of back then to make him admit he saw me as more than a friend. Now it was me who was in denial. 

I cared deeply for Nox, and I would never cheat, but I had to admit the way I saw Lad was not
friendly
. Maybe you could never feel that lower level of emotion for someone after you’d spent so much time kissing them—and fighting the powerful urge to go beyond kissing.

No, we weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend anymore, but we weren’t just friends, either. Hearing the shower turn on, it was my turn to battle the mental image of him in a towel.
Out
of a towel. I grabbed my phone and checked it again, hoping for a message from Nox. Nothing.
Super.
What were we going to do for the rest of the day, stuck here together?

Lad was a big fan of the seafood feast, though really, I couldn’t be sure if the credit should go to my cooking or the teenaged-boy appetite.

“So, want to go out to the beach again?” he asked, rubbing his flat belly. He’d gotten fully dressed after his shower, and for many reasons, it was best he stayed that way.

“Um... I think I’ve had enough sun for today. You go ahead, though.”

“No, that’s okay. I’ll stay here.”

I wandered around the living room, dejectedly surveying the empty bookshelves. Nox said he’d bought the cottage fully furnished. Obviously the previous owners weren’t readers.

Opening the lower cabinet flanking the fireplace, I discovered a possibility. They weren’t readers—they were gamers.

“Do you like board games?” I looked up over my shoulder at Lad.

“Sure.” He squatted beside me to inspect the contents of the cabinet. “We had games in Altum. Not these, of course. Do you know these games?”

“I do. Daddy loved playing games at night. Let’s see... I don’t think Monopoly is right for you—since you’ve never used money. Hmmm... we’ve got Parcheesi, Pictionary…”

“What’s Twister? That sounds fun.”

“No. Definitely no Twister.” That was the last thing I needed—the two of us reaching across each other’s bodies, limbs twisting together, collapsing in a heap on the floor. No way.

“Here we go. Let’s play Scrabble.” I grabbed the box and pulled it from the shelf. “You like to read. You like words.”

He nodded, considering. “Scrabble. Doesn’t sound as exciting as Twister, but okay.”

The game was fun for a while, until I could no longer tolerate the humiliation of being trounced by someone for whom English was a second language.

“I like this game,” Lad announced.

“I
bet
you do. Did you read
all
the books in the Deep River library?”

“Almost, but not all of them.”

We went back to the cabinet where I opened a box that looked something like a card file. “Hey, want to watch a movie? They have some DVDs here.”

Based on the outdated titles, I was starting to suspect the cottage’s previous owners might not have visited the property for a number of years. Either that, or they were major 80’s aficionados.

“Oh, I’ve never seen a movie,” Lad said.

“Really? Oh, right.” I shook my head. “Okay, well, look at these and see what looks interesting. I don’t know what you’d like.”

Lad thumbed through the small collection, reading the titles and inspecting the cover photos. “What about this one?” He held up a DVD with a sinister-looking, scissor-wielding doll on the cover. The title read
Child’s Play 2.
 

I wrinkled my nose and shook my head. “No scary movies.”

He laughed and picked up another. “How about this one?
The Blue Lagoon
. Looks tropical.” 

It also looked like a romance starring a couple of mostly naked teenagers. “Um...no.”

He flipped through a few more and held up another case. “Basic Instinct?”

“I never saw that one, but I remember my parents saying it’s really good. I think it’s a murder mystery.”

“Okay, that sounds interesting.”

We popped it into the DVD player and, after a few minutes of fumbling, figured out the remote. The movie started off great—very intense and mysterious, interesting characters.

And then there were the scenes my parents
forgot
to mention. The sexy ones. And by that I mean two people with no clothes on totally going at it.

I squirmed on my side of the couch, my face in flames. Lad was on the far end, sitting very still. I darted my eyes over at him. He never took his from the screen.

What was he thinking? I knew he was a virgin, like me. And he was a movie-virgin as well. What a selection to start with. I didn’t know if I should say, “I’m sorry,” or “You’re welcome.”

When I glanced back at the screen and saw the man sliding down the woman’s body, kissing a path along her bare skin as he went, I popped up from the sofa like a Whac-A-Mole.

“I need a drink. You?”

Without waiting for Lad’s answer, I practically ran into the kitchen. My phone was on the counter, its blue light blinking. I picked it up and checked the screen. I’d missed a text from Nox about an hour ago.
Shoot.

Nox: What are you up to?

Oh nothing. Just watching soft porn with my ex.

Ryann: Watching a movie.
(true)
Missing you.
(sooo true)
What are you doing?

Nox: I’m at a party. One of those see and be seen things Alfred arranged. Wish you were here.

I sent him back a smiley face emoji followed by a heart. But his next text made me wish I could take it back. Or replace it with one of those little red-faced guys with horns.

Nox: Vancia says hi. She and some of her model friends are here.

I swallowed a surge of bile before texting back.

Ryann: How nice. Have fun.

Yeah, it was insincere, but what girl would love to hear that her boyfriend was at a hot Hollywood party with his hot childhood sweetheart and her hot model girlfriends?

Nox: Don’t be mad. Alfred wants us all to be seen together—image stuff. Blah blah blah

Ryann: I know. It’s fine.

Nox: I’ll probably be out really late, so I’ll go ahead and say goodnight now.

Ryann: Night.

Now I was steamed for another reason entirely. Was it
really
all the agent’s idea? Or was Vancia behind it?

She was the one who’d cautioned him to keep Lad and me out of sight until she could get the lay of the land with her Pappa. And she’d found a reason to spend all day with Nox. Now she was going to be “out late” with him and his bandmates and the other models.

Could I really blame her though? She’d already basically announced her true intentions to me. And if I was aware of her feelings toward him, could Nox really be oblivious to them? He wasn’t dumb. He certainly seemed happy enough to go along with anything she suggested.

I re-read our conversation, resisting the urge to throw my phone across the room.

What about Lad? Did I have a responsibility to share my suspicions with him? I sat on the bar stool, staring down at my screensaver while I considered it. He wasn’t stupid, either. He’d seen them together, and he was entirely capable of asking Vancia himself—in a way she couldn’t lie her way out of. He didn’t seem concerned.
No—it’s their business.

I went back into the living room where thankfully the on-screen lovers were finished with
their
business and dressed once again. At least
they
were satisfied with their evening.

Lad glanced back over his shoulder. “Hi. No drinks?”

“Oh! I forgot. I’m sorry. I’ll be right back.”

Hurrying back to the kitchen, I filled two glasses with saol water. When I returned to the living room, Lad had stopped the movie.

“What’s going on? You didn’t like it?”

He wore a sheepish grin. “No. I
did.
But I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I can finish it later when you go to bed or something.”

“Okay. That’s probably a good idea,” I said in the most casual tone I could manage.

“Yeah,” he agreed. Eying the phone in my hand, he asked, “Talk to Nox?”

“No. He texted. He’s out. With Vancia.” My voice sounded so dejected I was embarrassed. I rushed to cover it. “And his band and her friends, too.”

“I see.” He paused for a minute, astutely reading my expression, maybe waiting for me to say more. When I didn’t, he rose from the couch. “So... I’m hungry again. Did you see anything in there for dessert?”

“I wasn’t really looking.”

He smiled. “I have an idea. Stay here.”

“Okaaaay.” I dragged the word out, wondering what he was up to. I heard rummaging around in the refrigerator and the pantry. Was he making something?

Lad left the kitchen and went down the hallway. “Stay there,” he cautioned.

I sat on the sofa, drinking my water and waiting for... whatever he was doing. When he returned, he was holding a long, white sock. Remembering how one of the movie characters had tied the other’s hands to the bed with a scarf, I had a moment of panic.

“Close your eyes please,” Lad said and stepped behind me.

“What? Why?”

“I’m going to blindfold you.”

The panic increased. “Um...”

“Don’t worry. This is going to be fun. I promise. It’s a game.”

“I don’t know...”

You can trust me Ryann. I’d never harm you.

I knew he’d never hurt me… physically. But there was more than one way of hurting someone. Lad had already done that, and though I hated to admit it, he could easily do it again. Still, I found myself allowing him to tie the clean sock around my eyes and then pull me from the couch by two hands. My belly simmered with excitement, with the thrill of the unknown.

“Come with me.” He led me a few steps and then guided me to sit.

A cool counter top was under my hands when I rested them. So we were in the kitchen.

“What kind of game is this?” I asked.

“A guessing game.”

“What am I guessing?”

“You’ll see.” I heard a drawer opening and shutting, a scraping noise. And then Lad’s voice. “Ready?”

“I guess so.” I giggled, even though nothing was funny. My nerves were going crazy.

“Open your mouth.”

“Oh—wait a minute—”

There was laughter in his voice. “I’m going to feed you. Don’t worry—there are no raw onions in the house. Come on—open up.”

I wasn’t at all sure I wanted to play this game. Reaching for my blindfold, I started to protest. “I don’t think—”

His warm fingers wrapped around my wrist, stopping me. “Come on, Ryann. Let’s make the best out of our situation. There has to be something good about being stuck in a tiny house full of food while our significant others are out enjoying the L.A. nightlife together.”

He had a point. A good one. But this situation was ripe with risk. I was frozen in indecision, my hands still hovering in the air, prepared to remove the blindfold and end this dangerous game. Finally, I let them drop slowly to the counter top again and opened my mouth.

I could literally feel Lad’s smile, his satisfaction filling the space between us. He placed something on my tongue. It was sweet, squishy, kind of melty.

“Do you know what it is?”

“Yes. A marshmallow.”

Lad laughed. “Good. I didn’t know what those were, but they looked dessert-y. I tasted one before I gave it to you to make sure.”

I chewed and swallowed.

“Next,” Lad said, and I opened my mouth again.

This food was small, curved, firm. I bit into it, and tart juice filled my mouth. I thought I knew what it was, but it was strange—without seeing it I wasn’t quite sure. “A cherry?”

“No. It’s a slice of plum.”

“Oh, weird. Okay, I’ll get the next one. Hey, what do I get if I win?”

“You don’t have to eat raw onions.”

I laughed. “I thought you said we didn’t have any.”

“You never know,” he said and put another piece of food in my mouth.

This one made me smile as I chewed. After I’d swallowed, I said, “Chocolate. Hershey’s original.”

“You know your chocolate.” He sounded impressed.

“Oh yes sir. Better give me a harder one or you’re going to lose this game and be the one eating raw onions.”

“Okay then.” He placed another item on my tongue.

It was dry and furry. I instinctively spit it out into my hand. “Blech. What
was
that?” 

“Just kiwi.” He laughed so hard his words came out mangled. “You said to give you a hard one.”

“I said difficult, not disgusting.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. One more. I promise this one won’t be gross. Come on, you trust me, don’t you?”

I sighed but answered him.
I do.

And it was true. Lad had looked out for my best interests nearly my whole life. He’d defended me, protected me—even to the point of giving me up when he believed it was the best thing for me.

Cautiously, I opened my mouth again. I heard the scrape of a spoon and then my mouth was filled with sweetness. Cool Whip. The spoonful must have been overflowing because it spilled out of my mouth and dribbled down my chin. I laughed and swiped it with my tongue, trying to capture the escaped whipped topping.

Something hit my empathy glamour like a sledgehammer. A powerful emotion, a desperate sensation of grappling for self-control. Without seeing his face, I knew Lad was staring at my mouth, that he was fighting the urge to kiss me. That he wanted me.