A little bit more crinkling with the map, and finally I put it and my mortification aside. “Okay, a few more I guess.”
Slowly, he sips his coffee, and as I take a sip of mine he asks, “Eve, how old are you?”
I shift in my seat, all kinds of uncomfortable again, and give him the age on my fake ID. “Eighteen.”
He looks at me from the side. “Hmm.”
I reach for the map and start fiddling with it again.
Calmly, West places his hand on top of mine and gives it a gentle squeeze so I’ll stop with the fidgeting. I frown as I stare down at his hand, becoming acutely aware of how warm thesimple contact feels as it spreads up my arm. I want to move away. But I also don’twant to.
He takes my map, neatly refolds it, and then very gentlemanly hands it to me. “Let’s go for a run in the morning. It’s whatfriendsdo.” His lips curve in a pleasant, unthreatening way.
I’m suddenly distracted by his scent, just like when we were in the car—cologne, soap, and something uniquely him.
“Please.” He tilts his head. “Eve, I want to hang out with you again, as friends.You won’t even have to talk if you’re not in the mood, though I hope very much you do.”
“I’d like that,” I softly admit.
Things get quiet between us again, but it’s not an awkward quiet, it’s more a thoughtful one. “You’re quite the challenge, Eve.”
It worries me that he thinks that. “I’m not trying to be.”
“I know you’re not. There’s something intriguing about you, and I bet you anything there’s a sense of humor hidden somewhere inside. We just need to find it. Secrets, too. You’ve got them.” He gives an unamused huff. “Don’t we all.”
I push back from the table, more than curious about that last comment. Indeed, what secrets does West have?
We grab the stuff that we left piled in the corner and make our way into the elevator.
“Anne said 302?” West asks, and I nod.
He presses three for me and five for him. Glass-paneled doors slide to a close, and I stand confronted by my image. I wiggle my toes in my Nikes and think of the dress shoes I’d been forced to wear my entire life. I take in the tiny hole in the jeans covering my left knee. No, there’s nothing delicate and perfect about me now.
Beside me, West shifts, and I flick my attention to hisreflection.
“I think you’re beautiful, Eve. I also think you probably haven’t heard that very much in your life.”
He’s right. I’ve never heard that. Here, right now marks the first time.
“Don’t you think you’re beautiful?” he asks.
“Honestly, I’ve never given it much thought.”
“Well, you should. Because you are.”
“Thank you,” I softly say.
In response, he smiles at me before looking down to my duffel, messenger bag, and guitar. “That’s all you’ve got?”
I give the duffel a little kick. “That one’s full of makeup.” West laughs at that, and I love that I made him. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I do have a sense of humor hidden deep inside.
The elevator dings then and I step off onto my floor. “I’ll be in the lobby at six for that run,” he tells me as the doors slide closed again.
I think you’re beautiful, Eve.
His words almost make me skip down the hall. Being friends with West is definitely not going to be like being friends with Anne.
“Hey,” Anne says as I walk into our room.