Page 58 of Hidden But Not Safe

“Oh, and the ‘Mars needs women’ concept is a fun one.” Meg’s eyes met his as she finished the last of her sandwich. “Sign me up for that,” she said around her chewing.

Naz realized he’d already swallowed all of his drink and wiped the excess that had dribbled out of his mouth with a napkin.

She smiled at him, and he rose to clean out the bottle.

During his soup dinner, Meg switched to talking about ghosts while she slurped at her own bowlful. He listened to her theories, not realizing until there was no more soup in his bottle that he’d finished already. He wiped at his mouth, his heartbeat in his throat. Eating had never been that easy, but somehow, distracted by Meg, swallowing felt more natural.

“You’re probably not creeped out by cemeteries either,” Meg said, blissfully ignorant to his shocked daze. “I bet you’d walk through them with that peaceful look you get when you stroll through the woods.”

A snort slid out of him. He didn’t stroll; he patrolled.

Meg grinned. Her gaze dropped to her half-full bowl, and she swirled her spoon in the liquid. “I’ve seen a ghost before.”

Naz studied her face. She didn’t seem happy about it. Her lip trembled a little before it firmed, and she continued stirring.

“I mean, I imagined I did. Picturing my mom watching over me at night helped me sleep. I’d found a few pictures of her Dad kept. She was beautiful—long, dark, curly hair and big eyes.”

Meg had gotten her looks from her mother. Even with sad eyes, she was beautiful.

She laughed, but it was a short, false sound. “I mean, she had boobs and an ass, too, but I was too young to think about her being hot. To me, she just seemed so pretty. Like an angel more than a ghost. I’d look at those pictures of her in my closet as often as I could.

“I stared so much, I was certain I was really seeing her. My mom was there for me, I thought. But then Dad saw the pictures, and he—” She released the spoon, letting it clatter against the bowl. “Well, he told me that my mom hadn’t died. She’d run off. Moved on with her life. I can be an idiot sometimes, imagining stupid things.”

Meg’s eyes lifted. When they met his, Naz felt a punch in his stomach at what he saw there—longing. And she was staring at him.

She cleared her throat. “I get why she’d leave my dad. He was such an asshole. But…” She trailed off, and her lips curved into her fake smile. She pushed up from the rickety table, snagging her bowl and carrying it to the sink to dump out and wash.

“So you’re probably right,” Meg said. “There’s no such thing as ghosts. They don’t exist.”

Naz put his bottle next to the sink, moved behind her, and hugged her.

Her breath hitched. The water ran over her unmoving hands.

“Don’t,” she whispered.

Naz immediately released her, backing off.

Her hands gripped the sink, and she stared at the water. “Sorry. It’s just, when you do that, I—” She cleared her throat, turning away from the sink, away from him. “I need to pee,” she mumbled, escaping to the bathroom.

Meg made things feel easier for Naz, but he realized in that moment that it was the opposite for her. He made things harder for her.

He finished washing her bowl and spoon and cleaned out his bottle.

It was dark through the window over the sink. Night had fallen. They’d spent hours together, and no one had interrupted.

Not that they’d been doing anything wrong. They’d cuddled and rested and ate, and he’d listened to Meg talk.

He couldn’t remember a better day.

But it was getting late. Meg would need to leave for the other trailer. She always went to Julio first at night, finding Naz after. Julio would expect it.

Naz wished the day had gone by more slowly. Or maybe that time would speed up, and she would already be back with him.

Or hell, that he was still eating with her, listening to her talk. He never wanted to be eating.

The bathroom clicked open. Meg paused in the doorway, her gaze fixed on him. She still wore his shirt, the black material sliding off her shoulder, too big on her.

Meg crossed to him and hugged him.

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