“Everything okay?” she asks.
I hold my breath, count to three, and plead with my vocal cords to cooperate. “Yep, just trying to find the bed.” My voice cracks on the last word. I clench my eyes and silently scream again before patting the mattress and saying, “Found it.”
I hobble the rest of the way, using the bed as a support, then climb back under the comforter. Several silent minutes pass as Frankie tosses and turns. Finally, she settles, and I begin to drift to sleep.
“Can you go jiggle the handle?” Her voice cuts through the darkness, and my eyes pop open. “The toilet keeps running, and it’s all I can hear.”
“You know, if you’re asleep, you won’t have to hear it.”
“Please?”
With a sigh, I get out of bed once more. I’m careful to use the mattress as a guide this time, though, and I make the trip to the bathroom without incident. After a jiggle of the handle, the toilet finally quiets, and I make my way back toward the bed. Unfortunately, I forget to feel my way through the room on my return trip, and my big toe collides with the corner of the wall.
I grit my teeth and hold my breath so that I don’t scream. Bracing myself against the wall, I suffer in silence as my toe throbs in time with my heartbeat.
“You may want to consider wearing shoes at all times,” Frankie says. “I’ve never met anyone who stubbed their toe twice in one day, let alone twice in the span of ten minutes.”
Wearing a cloak of embarrassment and cursing under my breath, I hobble back to the bed. Since she’s a government agent, I’m not stupid enough to want to impress her and make her like me, but if I could maybe not look like an incompetent toddler for the rest of the cruise, that would be great.
Once I’m under the comforter, Frankie performs her toss-and-turn ritual again. Now that I’ve silenced the noisy toilet, I can only hope she’ll go to sleep. When I’m rewarded with soft snores ten minutes later, I smile to myself and close my eyes, happy to finally put this day behind me. Tomorrow...Well, tomorrow will sort itself out eventually.
Chapter Eleven
Frankie
Iwake the next morning to the sound of Maverick brushing his teeth, which fucking sucks because it means instead of pretending to fall asleep, Iactuallyfell asleep. And that means I’m still stuck in this nightmare. Whoever designed these beds should be shot for creating something so comfortable.
Rolling onto my side with a groan, I glance at the bedside clock and am shocked to see it’s only five in the morning. Why the fuck is he up so early?
The sink cuts off, and I close my eyes and pretend I’m still out. Maybe I’ll actually fake-sleep correctly this time. Footsteps shuffle around the bed. The closet opens and closes, and then the bathroom door slides open and closed. Seconds later, the shower starts.
This is my chance.
I fling the blanket off my body and hurry out the cabin door, making a break for the elevator down the hall. Now I just have to find the exit. Or another agent. Anything.
“Don’t tell me you’re another morning person.”
I spin on my heel and face Eve, who covers her mouth as she yawns. In her other hand, she holds a paper cup. The skin around her eyes is still puffy with sleep.
“No, not particularly.” I offer her a disarming smile. At least, I hope it’s disarming. For all I know, I look absolutely maniacal, which would fit with how I feel. “My stomach keeps grumbling, so I thought I’d get up and search for some food. Would you happen to know where the kitchen is?”
“The kitchen?” Eve looks me up and down. “Honey, no. When we are on vacation, we don’t look for the kitchen. We look for the room service number. Live a little! Go back to your comfy blankets and have the staff bring whatever your heart desires.”
Before I can argue, she spins me around and pushes me toward my room. On any other day of the week, I’d be in awe of the beauty spiriting me away, but I need to get off this ship. I place my hand over hers and try to stop this train, but she’s on a mission.
“Room service sounds great,” I say, “but I enjoy cooking in my spare time, and I really wanted to see what the ship’s galley has to offer.”
“Oh, then the cooking class would be perfect for you! I didn’t do it at the winter retreat, and I hadn’t planned to try it this time, but it’s around lunch if you want to go?”
“I, um...” Warning flares prepare to fire, but then the cabin door swings open and Maverick steps out wearing only a towel draped over his waist. Whatever I planned to say evacuates my head as my eyes fill with dips and ridges and so much gloriously damp skin.
And the smells. I can’t even name them, but it’s the distinct and stereotypical scent of man.
His hand closes over my wrist, and he snatches me into the room. “Where did you go? You shouldn’t be wandering the ship alone! Something could have happened to you.”
Eve is all but forgotten as I take my scolding, and why is he so upset? I’m a grown woman. If I want to wander the ship, I will.
I snatch my hand away and step toward Eve. “My stomach woke me up, so I thought I’d pop down to the kitchen and find something to eat.”