Page 51 of Dream a Little Dream

He looked fuckinghotin glasses.

Bentley took out a notebook and pencil, flipping to a scrawled on page. “Did you report a Rahul Mishra missing on Friday evening?”

Oh. This was aboutthat.

“Yeah.” Aaron sank back in the seat, relief flooding him. Although he doubted either Bentley or Dr Kenneth Lyons would notice. He was good like that.

Kenny tilted his neck. Assessing him.

Dammit.

“Were you friends with Rahul?” Bentley asked.

“Were?” Past tense meantpasttense.

“Areyou friends with Rahul.” Bentley hated he’d slipped up. Aaron could tell. So could Kenny, because he took his eyes off Aaron long enough to warn him.

So Rahulhadturned up.

“I’ve been here four weeks,” Aaron said. “Everyone and no one is my friend.” He scratched his nails along the worn leather seat. “I take it he didn’t go home?”

“Do you know Rahul’s parents? His family?”

“No. Or I would have told them he was missing and not the Nazi bint on the accommodation desk.”

Jack shared a look with Kenny. And Aaron watched that miniscule exchange with alarm bells ringing in his subconscious. The familiarity sparked a memory too deep, too buried, that he couldn’t quite reach it. His body clenched.

Bentley turned back to Aaron. “Could you provide the details of your whereabouts this Friday, Saturday, and Sunday?”

“I could.”

Kenny pushed away from the door. “Answer the fucking question, Aaron.” Kenny’s bark even caused Bentley to flinch.

Aaron didn’t, though. He just peered up at him with lethargic eyes. “I fuckingdid, Kenny.”

A tense exchange between him and Kenny, then him and Bentley, where they seemed to share some silent words, as if well versed on how to talk among others with nothing more than looks, had the air prickling with heat.

“Where were you Friday, Saturday and Sunday just gone?” Bentley rephrased the question once everyone settled back into their respective positions.

“Friday I was here. After telling accommodation I hadn’t seen Rahul in over a week, I went to the Student Union, where I danced until about midnight. Went home. To my room.”

“Alone?” Bentley had his pen poised on the pad.

“Yeah.Alone. Had an offer but turned it down for a night with my hand watching daddy porn.” He gave a subtle wink to Kenny.

Bentley peered up from having scribbled something on his notes, catching the tail end of that brief exchange. He adjusted his seating position as if uncomfortable.

“Saturday?” Bentley asked.

“Saturday I had to read this really fucking boring book for a lecture on Monday calledPsychopathy and the Criminalby a Dr Kenneth Lyons, so I think I might have fallen asleep.”

Bentley peered up at Kenny again. Kenny rolled his eyes. Bentley turned back to him. “All day?”

“No. The evening, I went out. Had a date.” Aaron smiled and recited the details with a deadpan delivery he was proud of, because beneath the surface he tingled with the reaction, feeling Kenny’s eyes on him like a lead weight. “Went to a pub called the Jobber’s Rest. Ate a ribeye steak, medium rare, didn’t have a dessert. Shared a bottle a wine. Then walked her back to her door where I kissed her but didn’t go in because, well, to be honest, I can’t stop thinking about this really fucking hot twink I had in a club and everything else is pale in comparison.”

Kenny froze, drifting away from the door, eyes on Aaron like death lasers.

“And your date can corroborate that?” Bentley said, avoiding or unaware of the unrest. Aaron doubted he was unaware. Not if he was any decent investigator.

---