Page 32 of Rook

“If you hated dinner, you can tell me,” he said, shooting me a smirk. “I promise I won’t tell Detroit.”

“How could I hate penne vodka?” I asked, my hand going to my stomach, which was painfully full since there was no one at the table to monitor what I was eating or make comments about me gaining weight if I didn’t watch what I was eating.

“Sick of our company?” he pressed.

“No. I was just… making a list of things I want to make sure I remember to bring. My glasses, for example.” It was only partly a lie.

“Glasses, huh?” Rook asked, moving in front of me to inspect my face. “I’d like to see that.”

“I wear them at night and in the morning mostly. Before and after taking my contacts in and out.”

“How come?”

“How come what?”

“You wear contacts instead of glasses?”

“Oh. I was teased mercilessly about my glasses as a kid.” And a teen. And young adult. I had such a complex about it that I tried to never let anyone see me with my glasses on anymore.

“Kids are dicks.”

So were adults.

“Yeah. Oh, I forgot. Can you grab that delivery box downstairs? I need somewhere to put the stuff that came in the gift basket.”

“Yep, no problem. I’ll be right back.”

I probably had enough room in my bags for those items—especially since I ate all my snacks—but I just needed a second without Rook watching me with those intense eyes of his.

I was surprised how much I was struggling to keep a mask up around him. I’d spent my entire life trying to hide any of my true emotions, knowing how much some people around me would enjoy taking advantage of them, using them against me, teasing me about them. I’d been a master masker.

Maybe it was just because I’d been on my own for so many weeks now. I was out of practice. The skill would come back. I still needed it.

I set my mind to packing up all my clothes, then everything in the bathroom.

When Rook came back, we put my blanket, stuffed animal, and various other items inside.

“Is this everything?” Rook asked when we made it down to my car and I popped the trunk to reveal a mostly empty interior.

“Yeah.”

I was lucky to have been able to grab as much as I had. What I did bring, I’d shoved into a bag without paying attention. So I had something like six pajama pants but only two bras. And no socks. Not a single pair. And I only had the shoes that had been on my feet at the time.

Everything else—from my toothbrush and bath products to my pillows and various essentials and more clothes and shoes—had been purchased on the road. With precious money I really needed not to spend. But I also had to have contact solution, hair ties, and a brush.

I was actually impressed with how much I’d managed to accumulate on my own. On the road. Sleeping in my car.

That said, from an outsider’s perspective, yeah, it was pretty bare bones. No personal items at all.

That said, Rook’s place was lacking character too.

“It’s just essentials,” Rook observed. “No books, keepsakes…”

“Says the guy with completely empty bookshelves.”

“Hey, we don’t disrespect Johnny 5 like that.”

“Do you like building stuff like that?” I asked as we climbed in the car.

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