Page 191 of Boyfriend of the Hour

I was scared to death to hear what that might be.

So, I cleaned. I scrubbed my face and my skin and even my belly button and in between my toes. I washed my hair twice just to make it squeaky clean and actually waited the full five minutes the bottle of conditioner recommended before rinsing it out. I shaved every inch of my body I could reach, brushed my teeth twice over, flossed and gargled, then just stood under the running water for at least ten more minutes until a bang on the door from Marie warned me not to run up her water bill in my misery.

Thirty minutes later, I emerged, hair scrunched into air-dried waves, makeup fully done, wearing my favorite big red hoops, and dressed in one of Marie’s ankle-length black skirts with a T-shirt tied above my navel that read “Your Goose is Cooked” across the bust. Not the most stylish outfit in the world, but all my clothes were dirty. It was the best I could do.

I found the apartment suspiciously empty except for Nathan, who was sitting at the kitchen table, drumming his fingers on the worn wood while he waited.

He looked the same as ever. And by the same, I meant fucking delicious in a pair of simple navy trousers that hugged his thick thighs and a white button-down shirt rolled up at the cuffs. Perfect nerd style that only just hinted at the muscle underneath the tailored lines.

My kryptonite. Here to ruin me.

Nathan turned when he heard me approach and stood immediately, reached out, then pulled back his hands as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hello.”

We blinked at each other like owls. Separately, we both could be awkward, but we’d never been awkward together. I couldn’t say I cared for it.

“Um, where are Marie and Xavier?” I looked around as if they might jump out from the balcony again. Maybe yell “April Fools!” and rip off Nathan’s face like a mask on Scooby Doo.

Okay, admittedly, that was just ridiculous. But my brain was churning. It didn’t know where to stop with the catastrophes.

“Xavier went back to his hotel, and your sister said she needed to go for another walk.” Nathan’s mouth twisted to one side. “I think that was an excuse to leave us alone together.”

“I’m sure it was,” I agreed. “Honestly, she’s probably just excited I finally showered and thinks you’re the reason.”

“You haven’t been showering?” Nathan sounded honestly alarmed.

Shit. So much for playing it cool. I was nervous, and when I was nervous, my mouth had a tendency to run itself, spilling secrets and embarrassing details. Usually, they were about others, which is why none of my friends or family had ever trusted me to keep a secret. But right now, I had nothing to spill but my own mortifying existence.

“I’ve been…upset,” I admitted, suddenly focused on picking lint off the waistband of Marie’s skirt.

We stood there for a while longer, but when he didn’t reply right away, I forced myself to speak before he could say something that would break me. Something like “Good, you deserve it.” Even if it was true.

“Why are you here?” I asked.

Nathan breathed. And took a step toward me. “I found you. And I came.”

“What do you mean, you found me?” I asked. “I wasn’t hiding.”

“You weren’t?”

I shook my head, but then wondered if that was kind of a lie. I hadn’t purposefully tried to evade everyone I knew. I just hadn’t felt like talking to them.

“Your phone hasn’t been turned on in two months,” Nathan said with another step forward. “And your voice mailbox has been full for the last five weeks.”

Okay, no surprise there.

“I tried to contact your family members, but your sisters both slammed their doors in my face, and your brother threatened to have me arrested for harassment if I tried to reach anyone else.”

So, that was my problem. I’d trusted that since my siblings knew where I’d gone, they would tell any interested parties that information if and when that was necessary.

Apparently, they’d been holding a grudge against one particular party.

“So…howdidyou find me?” I asked.

One more step. “My brother. Carrick has contacts with the CIA. They tracked your passport to Paris. That’s when I remembered you had a sister in school here.”