The drummer lacked a social life, but didn’t he believe in sleep? Whatever West wanted could wait.
He activated the flashlight app on his phone. As he dressed, the beam illuminated a white platform bed with matching bedside tables. Three lacquered frames with carvings of leaves hung on pale orange walls. Fresh, sleek, modern with the warmth of summer.
He hadn’t planned on literally sleeping with Lauren. Hell. He hadn’t planned on sticking around after the first time they’d had sex. In his book, sending him to clean up in the guest bathroom had signaled the festivities were over. He’d wanted more, so had Lauren, but she’d chosen to push him away at first. Once she’d changed her mind, he’d gone along. What guy wouldn’t? Lauren was beautiful. Just sex. She’d thrown him with that one. Usually he was the one to set the tone. Some jackass had probably screwed her over. He could tell she wasn’t the type who slept around. She was solid, grounded by what was important. Like her friends. And that place in Mazree, even though she’d denied it. He’d never spoken about his grandfather to anyone else besides Thane, but he’d felt led to say it. He’d give anything to see the place in Virginia again. She couldn’t take Mazree for granted.
Lauren stretched. “What time is it?” She turned on a brass lamp on the bedside table.
The warm glow of her skin, tousled hair, and lips swollen from his kisses stirred up lust.
“A little after five.”
“You can sleep in longer if you want.” She yawned and snuggled back under the sheet.
He willed his cock not to rise as he zipped his jeans. “You know as well as I do if I get back in bed, it won’t be for sleep.”
A dreamy smile softened her face. “I wouldn’t mind.”
Man, he hated this part. He sat down next her on the bed. He could tell her anything. Say whatever he wanted. The next phase into the future would wipe him from her memory, but he’d remember everything. What it felt like to be inside of her. How he’d gotten hard all over again watching her come apart in his arms. He’d recall the picture on the wall and wonder if she decided to visit the cabin again. The answer would remain a mystery. A seed of cold reality planted in his chest. Caring, wanting, that’s why it was a bad idea to ask personal questions or hook up with the same woman more than once. The lies. The memories. They took up too much headspace.
Beth had lied so easily. They’d started dating before he’d joined the army. He’d been crazy about her. The truth came out. She’d pretended to love him. None of her excuses made up for the deception.
Damn. Second time tonight he’d turned sentimental about his life before joining Dalir. It was definitely time to get out of there.
Lauren’s warmth prompted him to linger. Eyes closed, she released a sleepy sigh.
Reid whispered, “Goodbye, beautiful,” and switched off the light. On the way out the bedroom, his phone pinged in a text from West.
Need to talk to you. Now. Mission related.
He crept down the hallway. It was if the picture called to him. Forced him to stop.
Mazree. If he could, he’d phase her there. They’d spend the day hiking the trails. Enjoy the sun. Map out the stars and listen to those crickets she’d talked about. He’d help her remember why she should treasure the cabin as a part of her life. Yeah. Like he could. Dalir would lose his shit if he revealed the gift of manipulating time.
He smoothed the natural wood framing the watercolor. Hollowness opened in his gut. They would have had a good time, Reid thought as he closed her front door, walked to his truck, and drove away.
Reid arrived at The Song. He parked his black crew cab next to the only car in the parking lot, West’s black jeep. In his role as logistics expert, West didn’t go on missions. He managed their homes and finances and took care of the books at the nightclub. A long phase erased memories. Images, fingerprints, handwriting, and any DNA identifiers also disappeared. West allowed them to seamlessly merge back into life and start all over again.
West sat at the polished wood bar and sipped from a bottle of beer.
Reid dropped on the stool beside him. West drinking this early meant he was dealing with insomnia again. “You realize alcohol affects sleep.”
“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” West rubbed light stubble on his usually shaved head. “You said to give Thane a rest and contact you instead if anything came up tonight.” He slid over a file. “Our next mission—a pandemic two years out.”
“How bad?”
West leaned over the counter and tossed his empty into the garbage. “Think fucked up times ten then multiply that by a hundred.”
Shit. If people only knew how close assholes came to fucking up the world, they wouldn’t wait for second chances. Reid flipped the folder open. Lauren should take his advice and visit the cabin. Soon.