Page 55 of Was I Ever Free

Both of them smile and nod. The way they look at each other seems to say that they know who Kenzie’s friend is, and why he’s here.

“So you’re Bastian’s girl?” the one with dirty blond shoulder-length hair says with a flash of a bright white smile.

“He’s just a friend,” I say a little too quickly.

Although, I barely believe the words coming out of my mouth.

“Gotcha,” he answers with a wink, leaning in to give me his hand. “Well, nice to meet you, Lucy. I’m Barker.”

We exchange a handshake, his clear blue eyes sweeping over my body from head to toe, then back up again. I am surprised by the small flutter in my stomach in response.

“We were about to play a game of pool, you want in, ladies?”

“Oh, uh, I don’t know how to play,” I answer softly, shaking my head.

“That’s okay. I’ll show you, I’m a great teacher,” Barker responds and then looks over to London. “Isn’t that right, honey?” he adds with a playful smile and a wag of his eyebrows.

She giggles, popping a hip and then tucking her hair behind her ear. “I’d say so.”

I am self-aware enough to pick up on the flirtatious tone, but can’t seem to pinpoint who it’s directed at, so I decide to simply ignore it.

I nod, and give him a smile. “Okay.”

“Great, Catfish, you be with London, and I’ll make sure Lucy beats both of your asses,” Barker says.

The group laughs, and I laugh along with them. My shyness is not doing me any good in this situation, but I try to power through it nonetheless.

We spend the next hour playing pool, Barker teaching me how to properly hold the cue, and tips and tricks on how to sink the balls into the holes. Eventually, I warm up to him, his charisma infectious, and I let myself relax and have a little fun.

But all the while we play, Bastian lingers at the back of my mind, wondering what he is doing and why I haven’t seen him all day.

Eventually, I excuse myself, feigning a headache, and head back to the room by early evening. Hours pass slowly by and still, I haven’t seen or heard from Bastian since last night. I don’t bother texting or calling. I am less than thrilled, but I will live. Ultimately, he doesn’t owe me anything, and he’s here for a job, I just happen to have tagged along.

His behavior makes me wonder if he’s suddenly mistaking my inexperience for dependency. As if now that we’ve had sex, I suddenly need him. That I am craving something deeper than what he’s offering. I was in a forced marriage for more than half my life—he should know that the last thing I want is a relationship.

I decide to go to bed, my musings all speculation anyway. No point in spending any more time on them. I must have been dozing, unsure how much time has passed, when my eyes snap open in full alert due to a rustling in the room, followed by a long sigh. Somehow, I recognize Bastian’s breathing and relax, my back to him, facing the wall. I stay still, pretending to sleep as I listen to every little sound he makes around the room.

The rush of the water in the sink while he brushes his teeth. A lighter placed on the dresser. The swish of a shirt pulled over his head. The clink of a belt. The sound of jeans falling to the ground. Bare feet on hardwood floors. The push of the sheets, and finally the creak of the mattress.

The weight of his body on the bed makes my body fall toward him, but I try my hardest to stay huddled next to the wall. The heat of him so close makes me break out in goosebumps, and I shut my eyes trying to pretend I can fall asleep now that he is here beside me. It takes him a few minutes to move again, but when he does, his hand finds the curve of my waist, traveling down and over my stomach, reaching over to the other side and pulling me into him.

I forget to breathe. Or maybe I refuse to, intent on hearing every little sound he makes as his body slowly curves into mine. His lips press a soft kiss between my shoulder blades as his hips press into the back of me and I suddenly realize all of this is happening because he thinks I’m sleeping. He lets out another small sigh, settling even closer, the room now completely silent. Trying to relax into him, I absentmindedly count Bastian’s breaths with every rise of his chest. I eventually manage to fall back asleep, his arm a warm weight around my waist throughout the night.

29

I’m out of bed before the sun has time to rise over the Black Plague compound. I pad through the room in the dark still feeling the imprint of Lucy’s body on my skin. A moment of weakness maybe—to have pulled her into my chest while she slept soundly next to me.

I’m stepping into my jeans, distracted by all the shit that needs to be done when I hear a rustle coming from the bed. My gaze snaps to hers as I straighten to my full height, buttoning my jeans in another one of our loaded silences.

I can just make out the soft lines of Lucy’s face, her wide eyes the only thing penetrating the shadows.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” she whispers.

She tucks the sheets under her chin as if trying to shield herself from me—or maybe even my answer.

“Doing what?” I reply. My voice gravelly like I haven’t used it in a while. I’m not sure why I ask, because I already know. Better to play dumb than be truthful.

Her own voice is still low and full of sleep when she answers. “Avoiding me.”

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