“Or that’s just what he wants us to think. If he pulls over and turns off his lights, we’ll easily miss him as we pass and he can get behind us again.”
Lovely. I slumped in my seat, not bothering to comment. All week I’d looked forward to our weekend getaway. But our break-up drama had followed us and, apparently, so had Renzo.
“We’re almost there. Okay if we stop for food before we find a hotel and check in?”
“Yeah.”
He stopped at the first drive-thru we came to, then hit the road again. As I ate, I checked the info I’d gathered the night before on the hotels.
The sign over the freeway rang a bell somewhere in my subconscious. “This is our exit. It’s hard to tell by the pictures, but the rooms look pretty nice.”
“That’s the beauty of not making a reservation.” Zack signaled, then swerved into the right lane. “If it ends up being a dump, we’ll move on to the next one.”
My boyfriend had been irritating, distant, angry — any number of things — the entire trip, but I loved the way he acted so calm when my nerves were on edge. Otherwise the trip would be miserable. I hated knowing that no matter what I might learn about my parents, I’d still be mad at them. If I failed and didn’t learn anything at all, I’d likely be even more pissed. Having Zack with me made either scenario a little less awful.
Up the narrow road, the trees gave way to a towering building, which reminded me of a French chateau, out of place in America and far from home. Lit windows glowed from the rooms, some of them partially hidden by trees. The tops of the windows arched, flanked by shutters and the stone exterior reached high up to a sharply pitched roof.
I wondered if the inside would be as charming as the outside.
We weren’t officially in Yosemite, but the area still boasted plenty of vegetation. I opened the door the moment the car stopped moving. “It smells absolutely divine around here.”
He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. “I could get used to this.”
I shot him a hopeful smile. “We could stay another day regardless what we find out tomorrow.”
“It’s probably not a good idea to stay any longer than we need to.” He climbed out of the car and headed toward the hotel entrance.
I followed, not wanting to ask why we shouldn’t stay. Knowing the reason wouldn’t make him any less of an ass.
“I hope it’s not too expensive,” I muttered, although I wasn’t sure why I was worried. My mom’s credit card sang to me from a little compartment in my purse. It’s not like my parents were strapped for cash. Still, I’d had too many years of living frugal to be too extravagant.
Zack continued, passing through the front door and stopping at the front desk, which was more like a long counter. Brochures sat at the end of the glossy, dark surface and framed certificates of excellence hung on the wall nearby.
A small woman looked up from a computer monitor and smiled. “Good evening.”
I lowered my voice, hoping to seem more mature. “We’d like a room please.”
“Do you have a reservation?”
“No,” I replied.
“That’s all right. One bed or two?” she asked, clicking a button on the keyboard.
“Two,” I said, my eyes darting at Zack for his reaction.
His face remained blank.
The woman tapped keys again. “I’m sorry, we only have kings left. Will that be a problem?”
“It’s fine,” he said.
A tingle raced through my body, all the way to my toes. Okay, a king was huge. He could have his side and I’d have mine.
“I’ll need to see your ID.”
I fished in my purse and handed it over, my palms sweating. I’d never rented a room before.
Relax. It’ll be fine, Zack said. We’re legal and we can pay. That’s all they really care about.
He was right. A few minutes later, we were all checked in. We returned to the car, grabbed our bags and found our way to the room. Our very expensive room. I cringed to think how my parents would react when they saw the bill. No matter their reaction, it would be worth it.
The suite had ample space for a bedroom with a king sized bed and a sitting room with a chaise lounge. Both spaces had a giant flat screen TV. The bathroom was the size of my bedroom at home, marble everywhere. I eyed the jet tub, noting the little bottle of bubble bath waiting for me on the edge.
By the time I’d finished poking around, Zack was already comfortable and watching sports. I flicked a thumb to the glorious place of refuge I’d just left. “I’m going to take a bath.”
“While you’re doing that, I’ll go for a quick run. I wouldn’t leave you alone, but—”
“I know you have to morph, Zack.” I paused, wondering if an invitation to join him would be coming.
“I’ll be quick. If I’m back and asleep before you get out of the bath, you take the bedroom. We don’t want it to go to waste.” His eyes left me and got stuck to the television screen.
Not only did I not get invited to go with him, but he’d dismissed me for sports. Jerk. Why keep me as his girlfriend if he’s going to be a douche bag?
I snatched up my pajamas and toothbrush, then stomped to the bathroom and slammed the door. Forty-five minutes later, I came out and found Zack on the couch. His eyes were closed, shadows and lights from the television alternating over his face. Dejected, I made my way to the room, crawled into bed and settled near the edge. I turned to lie on my side toward the nightstand and reached for my e-reader.
Seeing Zack in the doorway, I flinched. “Did I wake you?”
“I wasn’t asleep.” He ran his fingers through his already tousled hair. “The scent of the… whatever you’re using. It called to me. Smells nice.”
“Bubble bath,” I said.
“Yeah.” He tapped the inside of the doorway with the palm of his hand.
Was he going to just stand there and watch me or was he finally ready to talk about it? “Did you change your mind?”
“About what?” he asked.
If he didn’t spit out whatever was on his mind and do it soon, I wouldn’t need Charles or Renzo to kill me. Zack was going to drive me to do it myself. “About sleeping out there.”
He looked up at the ceiling.
I tucked the covers up to my chest. “Sleep here if you want, but stay on your side.”
He strode to the other side of the room out of my line of vision. I returned my attention to the e-reader screen, trying very hard not to be aware of his every move. As I struggled to focus on the words calling to me, I tried not to hear the rustle of fabric that told me he was undressing.
Before I could stop myself, I glanced over my shoulder to see him clad only in boxers. I looked away, making my motions fluid, so I didn’t look jumpy.
The mattress dipped as it took his weight. “I’m sorry for being rude,” he said quietly, dangerously close to my ear. “It’s just that I’m still worked up over that whole thing.”
“Yeah, but you won’t talk about it.”
“I can’t just yet.” His hand found my hip and warmth spread over my skin.
Making a conscious effort not to melt into him, I covered his hand with mine for a moment before releasing it and returning my attention to my book. As if taking the hand squeeze as encouragement, he scooted closer, burying his face in the back of my neck. No way would I allow it to go any further, considering what he’d done.
But I couldn’t make myself push him away either. “Zack?”
“Yeah?” His breath tickled the back of my neck.
“Thanks for coming with me.”
His arms tightened around me. “You’re welcome.”
“Good night,” I whispered.
His hand moved a fraction of an inch and every nerve in my body stood at attention. Knowing he was awake only increased the tension in my limbs. I prayed he would hold very still and fall asleep soon. If not, it was going to be a very long night.
~~~
Chapter Twent
y-eight
When I opened my eyes the next morning, the first thing I saw was Zack’s chin. Slowly, I pinpointed each of our body parts. We faced each other on our sides, almost hip to hip. The palm of my hand was flattened against his chest and my knee was wedged between his legs. His arm was carelessly draped over my waist.
So far, not too bad.
Then I realized my other hand was cupping his face. It seemed like such an intimate gesture — practically equivalent to saying I love you. Not something I wanted him to know just yet, especially now that we were barely speaking.
I held my breath, fervently hoping I could detach myself without waking him. My heart beat wildly at the thought of Zack waking up and catching us this way. In this vulnerable position, I wouldn’t be able to resist if he made a move.
With almost imperceptible motions, I slowly separated my hand from his cheek and tucked it close to myself. I breathed a sigh of relief, then removed my other hand from his chest. Now it was a matter of freeing my knee.
I slipped my hand into the small space near my knee and his legs, then lifted. Holding up his leg so his knees wouldn’t slap together, I gingerly reclaimed my own. Free at last, I rolled over and slowly got off the bed.
Creeping into the other room, I turned on the television and listened to the news while I dressed, then darted into the bathroom to wash up.
I loved healing quickly. I never woke in the morning looking scary — no blood shot eyes from lack of sleep and no bags under my eyes. I didn’t even want to imagine if I were human and what I could’ve looked like on the three hours sleep I’d gotten.
“Hey.”
I jumped, turning from my reflection in the mirror and nearly jabbing my eye with the mascara brush. From the look of Zack, he didn’t suffer from the myriad of human ailments either. He looked scrumptious, his hair disheveled, his boxers sitting a little too low on his hips.
“Good morning,” I squeaked.
“It’s early. Maybe we should get breakfast downstairs and if it’s still too soon to knock on doors, we can go to the hospital.”
“That sounds like a plan.” He looked so yummy, I wanted to touch that cute little curve of muscle just above his waist, and run my thumbs over his six-pack. And if I could do all that with my mouth, even better.
I blinked, attempting to eject that image from my head. Not going to happen. I dragged my eyes from all that bare skin and resumed fixing my face.
Since he hadn’t moved, I wrapped it up and scurried past him with my head down. “Bathroom’s all yours,” I mumbled.
When he emerged a few minutes later, he smelled fantastic, the bare skin of his chest glistening with tiny beads of moisture and his wet hair exploding in every direction from towel drying. Since I couldn’t bear the temptation of watching him get dressed — and, really, why did he have to do it right in front of me? — I distracted myself by organizing my suitcase.
When Zack was ready, we took the elevator down to the hotel restaurant. The hostess seated us at a booth and I played with my fork while we waited for our server. After a couple minutes, I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Zack, I know you don’t want to talk about it but… well, you know we can’t go on like this indefinitely.”
“I realize that, Autumn. But I just can’t yet.” He squeezed the butter knife, his knuckles turning white. “I can’t.”
“Whatever,” I muttered, wondering what his problem was. Kissing Cameron had been an accident. He’d mauled Gina on purpose. The end.
Still, I loved him and if I could save our relationship, I wanted to try — preferably while we were still out of town, so we could make the most of this trip. If I got the information I needed soon, Zack and I might even be able to see some of Yosemite without worrying about Renzo. If he was following us, he already knew we were together. If he planned on acting on it, wouldn’t he have already done so? I mean, if seeing us get a hotel room together last night didn’t make him take action, then I could assume we were safe for now.
My cell phone rang and I fished in my purse for it. The screen lit up with “Mom.” Oh, no. She rarely called. What if she had arrived home and wondered where I was?
“Aren’t you going to answer that?” Zack asked.
“It’s my mom.” I stared at the phone like it was an F on a report card, then turned it so he could see the screen. As if he wouldn’t believe me. Duh. “I can’t tell her I’m out of town. What if I lie and she asks more questions and I slip up? It’s too easy to get caught.”
The ringing stopped.
Panic crept into my voice. “What should I tell her? I have to call her back or she’ll worry. But if she’s home and I say I’m at a friend’s house, she’ll wonder why I don’t come home right away.
“Relax. We just need to think of a place you could be all day.” He tapped the table with his fingertips. “Like Magic Mountain or Disneyland.”
“That’s perfect!” I pressed the send button and waited while it rang.
“Hi, sweetheart,” she answered.
“Hey, mom. What’s up?”
“I’m home. Thought we could spend some time together. Where are you?”
I took a deep breath, reminding myself to be calm. Knowing my mom, she wouldn’t stick around long anyway and I wouldn’t get caught. No need to panic. Unless she picked this trip to veer from her routine and stay the night, then it’d be the rottenest luck ever. “Magic Mountain. With some friends.” Duh. It’s not as if I’d go alone.
“Oh, that’s nice. You’re out early though. What time do they open?”
What time did they open? I wanted to weep. Or bang my head against the wall. “Oh, we’re not actually there right this second. We stopped for breakfast.”
Just then, a waitress arrived to take our order. If Mom heard the waitress, it added authenticity to my story.
Garden omelet, hash browns, English muffins, I told Zack silently.
“You sure you don’t want to come back?” she asked. “I’ve got until this evening.”
No! No! This can’t be.
Tell her you’re carpooling and you’re the one driving, Zack told me telepathically, taking a pause to give the server our orders. And that your friends will be really disappointed, because they’ve been planning it all week.
Oh, hallelujah for Zack and his quick thinking. I repeated what he’d said and she seemed mollified, although disappointed. The waitress left and Zack’s eyes met mine.
Why was my mom home anyway? Did she get the credit card statement and wonder about the new charges? No, she wouldn’t get the bill so soon. But what if the credit card company had called to alert her of suspicious activity? Had she been in the safe and noticed the missing items?
Oh damn, I wished I’d used my own money.
“You think you might be back by eight?” my mom asked. “I’m leaving tonight.”
Of course she was. Which was a good thing this time or I’d have to come home. “Everyone will want to stay until it closes. Then maybe stop for food. That’s the plan anyway. I’m super bummed to miss you though. Next time, call first and let me know.” Like a normal parent would. “Give Dad my love, would you?”
“Sure. He’s wrapping up in Montana right now. We’ll get settled in New Mexico, then come back here in a few days. We’ll see you then, okay? Have fun at Magic Mountain, sweetie.”
It was a narrow escape, yet I couldn’t help feeling disappointed that she wasn’t staying longer. Why wouldn’t she spend the night? What was the hurry?
After we hung up, I stared at my phone. “You could hear her talking. You think she bought it?”
“Yes,” he said confidently. “From what you’ve told me about them, if she suspected anything, she would’ve insisted you come home.”
“I have this vision of her figuring out what I liar I am and staying until I get there.”
“If that happens, then tell her the truth — that you were out of town with your boyfriend. What’s the worst that can happen? She’ll w
orry about you?” Zack laughed once. “Doesn’t she excel at that already?”
I nodded, but my mind was reeling over the fact that he’d referred to himself as my boyfriend. Was he still mine? Did I want him to be? I loved him, yes, but… Images of him and Gina popped into my head and I inwardly flinched.
“By the time she catches on, we might have some information on your birth parents. Or your current parents if it was just a matter of a name change. If they get mad at you for lying, you can point out the whoppers they’ve been telling.”
“True,” I said.
† † †
We arrived at Oakhurst General Hospital and took the elevator to the maternity ward on the fifth floor. We approached the wide Formica counter and waited for the woman on the other side to finish her phone conversation and notice us.
Moments later, she set the phone down and smiled. “May I help you?”
“I really hope you can. My name is Autumn Rossi. I was born here eighteen years ago. How do I go about getting my medical records?”
“Honey, from that long ago, it’d be in archives.”
“What floor?” Zack asked.
“From eighteen years ago?” She looked doubtful.
“Yes, it’s really important.” My stomach clenched and I fought to keep my voice even. “I found out I might have been adopted and want to confirm it. I couldn’t be the only adopted child ever to search for her biological parents, right? They’d have to keep records somewhere.”
Her brows flew up. “Adopted, huh? That kind of information isn’t necessarily released to the child.”
“I’m eighteen and it’s my medical record.” My brow furrowed and I hoped I wouldn’t have to spend the rest of the weekend researching my legal rights.
“Oh, in that case…” She waved a hand as if to wash away what she’d said. “Go down the hallway to the elevator.” She grabbed a piece of paper, sketched a map of the building, and marked an X. “Go to the first floor, make a right then go to the end of the hall. You’ll have to sign some forms, pay a fee. And they’ll want to see your ID to prove who you are, of course.”