Page 164 of Never Tell Secrets
Consciousness returned along with the dull ache in my ears that told me I was still in the sky. I yawned, pulling the blanket closer. I curled tighter into the pillow I held onto, snuggling my face into it. It squeezed back and I startled awake.
Blinking, I sat back to find Alfie gazing down at me, an amused look on his face. I realised then I hadn’t fallen asleep warm and snug in one of the six king size beds on board, but curled up in the same chair Alfie had strapped me into, holding onto his arm like it was a body pillow.
A flush crept over my cheeks. This level of intimacy was a step too far for me. I straightened, wiping drool from the corner of my mouth. There was a small wet patch on his suit too.
Alfie’s eyes were rich with the softness he saved only for me. These moments were so dangerous, the moments where all the badness fell away, when it was just him and me, calm and happy.
“You talk in your sleep.” Angie cut in from her seat in the corner of the lounge. I stifled a sigh. The calm and happy never lasted long.
I lifted Alfie’s arm, showing her the wet patch on his suit. “I drool too. What else have you got?”
Ignoring her smirk, I stretched, kicking off the blanket I’d been bundled in. Elliot and Maia were nowhere to be seen. There was a breakfast tray in front of me, holding coffee and of course, blueberry muffins.
“Eat.” Alfie straightened in his seat, giving me my space back even though I hadn’t asked for it. “We’re landing in fifteen.”
“I slept the whole way?” Had he really sat still for seven hours straight just so he didn’t disturb me?
“Yes. I tried to move you but you wouldn’t let go of my arm.”
Well, that was embarrassing. Or at least it would be if Alfie didn’t look so happy about it.
“Alfie—”
“This isn’t going to become a habit. I know. Now, eat.”
I tucked into a muffin and looked out the window. The afternoon was slowly turning into evening and below the world was alive with lights, the ocean vast ahead of us.
The pilot announced our landing and I allowed Alfie to strap me back in as Elliot and Maia returned to their seats. In the background, I could hear Angie running through itinerary details with Alfie but I ignored it, too busy watching the city grow closer.
We landed with ease and after thanking the pilot, Alfie led us out onto the tarmac where three cars awaited us. Angie got into one and drove away, leaving me to breathe a sigh of relief. I’d forgotten how oppressive I’d found her presence.
“Lo,” Alfie touched a hand to my arm, “I need you to decide where you want to stay. You can stay on site with Angie, Elliot and I or you can go to a different hotel with Maia. Maia goes where you go, that’s non-negotiable.”
I stared at him. He was actually serious about letting me stay somewhere else if I wanted to.
“I thought your hotel wasn’t finished?”
“It isn’t, but the presidential suite is ready for me as well as several other rooms. It isn’t as glamorous but it’s easier to stay on site than commute everyday.”
I paused, thinking through what I wanted. “I don’t want to share a room with you.”
“Or deal with Angie everyday?” Alfie gave me a knowing look and I nodded. “That’s fine. I’ve arranged for you to have your own rooms, or you can have a bedroom in my suite. It’s up to you.” With that, he headed for one of the cars, sliding smoothly inside as the door was held for him by the driver.
My bags were carried to the same car, which I presumed meant I was supposed to follow them. I did, sliding in next to Alfie. Elliot got in the front, immediately raising the driver's window and giving us privacy. Part of me wished he hadn’t done that. Alfie and I in an enclosed space was like being in a pressure cooker. It didn’t help that his sharp gaze was almost always on me, searching, scrutinising.
I looked out the window to see Maia getting into the other car.
“I can have her replaced if you’d rather not see her.”
That would definitely be easier, but not better. “No, I can handle it.”
He nodded, running his gaze over me. “Lo, I’m sorry about Angie. I’ll talk to her again.”
“Right, because that always works.” I’d heard that line from Alfie a dozen times by now.
“Lola—”
“Alfie, I’m really not interested in talking about Angie right now, or hearing anymore of your bullshit excuses for her. She’s your problem, not mine.”
