Page 168 of Skalterra By Nightmare
Liam’s mouth dropped open, and I wondered if he’d put the pieces together yet.
“Wren, please tell me that wasn’t your father.”
I’d told him about my geophysicist father the day we’d paddled to the cove. There were a lot of geophysicists, though. It wasn’t his fault he hadn’t made the connection until now.
His take-out bag hit the ground with a soft thud, and then his arms were around me. I disappeared into the blue fabric and sandalwood smell of his Von Leer hoodie and cried.
39. Seismic Design
Emotions no longer felt real, so I wasn’t sure why I was still crying. A sort of self-preserving numbness had chilled my heart, but I stood in the corner of the dusty hotel lobby trying to sniffle through my tears as quietly as possible. In my periphery, the receptionist cast me concerned glances over Liam’s shoulder as he checked us into our room.
He hadn’t said anything on the walk from campus but had kept his arm around my shoulders, holding me close and letting me cry. I wondered if I’d ruined his trip, or if he was mad that I hadn’t told him the truth about the lecture speaker.
“This way.” Liam took my overnight bag off my shoulder to carry for me, and I dragged the heel of my hand across my face in a feeble attempt to dry my tears.
The kitschy wallpaper was peeling in spots, and the low carpet was worn thin beneath us, but there was something comforting about the cramped hall and yellowing lights.
I tried to compose myself in the elevator. My shoulders had stopped shaking at least, but tears continued to spill down my cheeks.
“I’m fine,” I whispered unprompted.
“I know you are.” Liam nodded, but his eyebrows knit in concern. The elevator door opened, and he offered me his hand before we stepped out into the hall. I accepted it, twisting my fingers in his.
A shuddering breath racked my chest, but I tried to pass it off as a shiver.
“This is us.” Liam held a plastic keycard up to a door handle, and pushed into the hotel room.
It was at least in nicer shape than the aging hallway, with a fresh coat of gray paint and a clean white comforter stretched over the bed.
The single, king-sized bed.
Heat rose in my cheeks, and Liam groaned next to me.
“I’m going to kill your grandmother.”
I gave a watery laugh as I released Liam’s hand.
“It might have been an accident. She’s not very good at using the internet.”
“I know Ethel, and I watched her click on the double room. This was no accident.”
“I can take the pull-out.” I crossed the room to claim the couch, but Liam took me by the shoulders and spun me back around.
“Absolutely not. You go get cleaned up. I’ll take care of it.”
I scowled, but gave in, taking my bag with me into the bathroom.
The heat of the shower drew out the last of my tears, and while I would’ve loved to spend the night wallowing in disappointment and hot steam, I eventually forced myself to shut off the water and change into my oversized t-shirt and shorts for bed.
“I thought you might have fallen asleep in there.” Liam had unfolded the couch into a lumpy bed that creaked under his shifting weight. He held up two plastic to-go containers. “Cake?”
“Where did you even get cake at a paleomagnetism lecture?” I made myself comfy on the edge of my bed closest to Liam. He’d changed into plaid pajama pants and a Von Leer Vikings t-shirt.
“It’s a bakery across the street from campus. All the food goes on sale during their last hour every day, so I ran to see what they had left when you were talking to— you know.”
“To my dad.” I took the plastic tray of cake from Liam and studied the pattern in the chocolate icing. The shower had been refreshing, sure, but my eyelids still felt swollen and heavy from crying. Liam could probably see they were still red-rimmed.
“Why didn’t you tell me he was your dad?” He sat facing me on the pull-out bed, his knees inches from my shins.
