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The Exposure

Page 35

   


   He slid out of bed, not bothering to put any clothes on. After all, she had only a robe and he wasn’t planning on her wearing that much longer. He planned it all in his head. She’d have the refrigerator door open. He’d come up behind her and put his arms around her. She’d turn around. And then up on the table she’d go. He walked faster.
   But when he stepped into the hallway, it wasn’t to see her entering the kitchen, but his office.
   His office?
   He stepped into the room near the office, so he could watch her undetected. She was going through his desk drawers looking for something. Obviously not finding what she was looking for, she attacked his filing cabinet next. Whatever she was looking for, she was on a mission. Not once did she look up to see if her absence had been noted.
   She sighed as she closed the last drawer. Her back was still to the doorway and he kept waiting for her to look over her shoulder, but she never did. Did she want to be caught? Or was she that intent on looking for what she wanted?
   He couldn’t imagine what she was after and he’d just taken a step forward to ask her what the hell she was doing, when she made a small noise and lunged at the photo boxes he had on a shelf behind his desk.
   Photographs? What the fuck?
   He ducked back into the room right as she turned around. He stayed still for five seconds and when he peeked again, she was going through his pictures. Her head was down and she was focused as he’d never seen her before as she flipped through the stack in the box. Being caught was clearly the last thought in her head. As silently as he could, he crept back to the bedroom and crawled into bed. Made sure he rolled onto his side so he wouldn’t be facing her when she came back. What had he just witnessed?
   According to the clock by his bed, merely five minutes passed before she returned to his bed. He knew he should confront her, but he wanted to wait. He wanted to see if he could determine which pictures she was looking for. Perhaps she only wanted to see the ones he’d taken of her. It struck him as he lay perfectly awake that he hadn’t shown her any of the shots.
   That had to be what it was.
   He’d just convinced himself of that when he heard her sniffle. He held perfectly still, thinking maybe he’d heard wrong. But no, she twisted in the bed and from the sound of her breathing, she’d turned away from him. Though she tried to stifle it, she was obviously crying.
   Fuck.
   He was caught between angry and upset and worried. It was a completely new place for him and he didn’t know how to handle it. He could pretend her coming back to bed had woken him up, but in his current state of mind, he doubted he could pull it off.

   He could confront her. Ask her what the hell she was doing going through his office at two in the morning. But he felt perhaps he was too upset to talk rationally about it and with her already in tears, he would probably only make things worse. He’d just gotten her back in his life; he didn’t want to push her away.
   In the end, he did nothing. He stayed on his side of the bed, listening to her cry not-so-silent tears, and wondering what the fuck had just happened.
   And what he was going to do when he found out.
   * * *
   No more crying, Meagan told herself. She’d done enough of that last night. Thank goodness Luke had been asleep at the time and her eyes were no longer puffy and red when they got up and had breakfast. She didn’t hang around Luke’s for long after. Just being in his presence made her feel even guiltier than she already was.
   On the way back to her apartment, she took a detour. Later tonight she’d send an e-mail to The Taskmaster, but first she had to do something she’d rather not: visit her brother. She tried to stop by every few months to check on him, but she admitted it was more out of obligation than anything else. It’d been four months since her last visit and she’d promised her dad before he died that she’d keep an eye on him.
   She shouldn’t dread seeing her brother. That wasn’t how families were supposed to work. Unfortunately, that was the way it was with her and Jake.
   He was a year younger than her and, according to her grandparents, had been an “oops” baby. When she was younger, she was often jealous at the attention he received from everyone. As she got older, she told herself it was simply that he was the baby of the family. But she remained jealous. Now, however, she was thankful she hadn’t been treated the way he had been. In a word, he was useless.
   She pulled up to the run-down condo he lived in. She hadn’t bothered to call. It was a Sunday afternoon, after all. He’d be watching football.
   She heard the announcer’s voice from the television through the closed door. And, if she wasn’t mistaken, other male voices as well. Great, now not only would she have to deal with her deadbeat brother; she’d have to deal with his deadbeat friends too. She thought about turning around and going back home without seeing him, but that would mean she had to e-mail The Taskmaster and she’d rather put that off for as long as possible. With a sigh, she rang the doorbell.
   The sound was turned down and footsteps approached the door.
   “Are you happy? I turned it down,” her brother said, flinging open the door. He did a double take when he saw her. “Meagan. What are you doing here?”
   “Nice to see you, too, Jake.”
   He looked as though he’d just rolled out of bed. And judging by his smell, it’d been several days since he’d showered.
   “Yeah, whatever,” he said. “Why are you here?”
   “I came by to see how you’re doing. Aren’t you going to let me in?”
   He didn’t want to—that much was obvious by the pointed stare and refusal to move out of the doorway. But she knew this game well, so she stood her ground and lifted an eyebrow.
   With an exaggerated sigh, he stepped out of the way. “Don’t say anything about the mess.”
   She pressed her lips together, but didn’t say anything as she stepped over the threshold into the pigsty that was his apartment. Just inside the entranceway, piles of clothes filled one corner of the room, fast-food wrappers and bags were strewn everywhere, and the air held a hint of mold. Jesus, how could he stand to live like this? Her skin itched and she knew as soon as she made it home, she’d be taking a shower.