had run out of room. “We went on two dates, Matt. I don’t think it counts.”
Soulful amber eyes locked on me. “It counts to me.”
“You texted me to break up!”
“I texted you to say I needed some time.”
I moved to enter past him. “It doesn’t matter.”
He caught my elbow and stopped me. “I apologize if my high school speak is off.”
“You wouldn’t have done anything differently.” I faced him. “You would have still chosen the visions.”
“We’ve been over this. The future—our future—depends on them.”
“Not anymore.”
I wasn’t surprised when Matt didn’t reply, although part of me secretly hoped he would. The part of me secretly glad to have this time with Matt. Despite the end of the world looming over the horizon, or maybe because of it, I wanted to find out where we stood with each other.
He started walking. We reached our room in a few steps. Matt used a key—a real iron key, not a keycard—to open the door. I walked past him into the room. The best thing in the grand room was a canopied king-sized bed in the middle of it. A white mosquito net draped the sides of the green fabric bed canopy. Thick, spring-green curtains dressed the sides of the glass-paned windows. In front of the bed, rich red cushions adorned a short divan sofa. Several tartan pillows added to the woodsy Colonial décor. A palm tree swayed just outside.
Matt pulled the curtains closed. “We should sleep soon. We have to be up in four hours.”
I threw my backpack on a low wood table. “Huh?”
“We’re going to climb up Adam’s Peak. It’s going to take an hour by car to get there. The guidebook says to see the sunrise—which is the best part of the climb—you should start at one a.m.”
“We’re going sightseeing?”
“No, we’re going to see a shrine at the top of the mountain while everyone else is distracted.”
The crumb of information was all the explanation I got before Matt picked up the phone and asked the front desk to arrange for a car. With a sigh, I headed to the bathroom for a much needed shower. The bathroom had no lock and a transparent shower curtain. I grimaced, but decided I wanted a shower too much to be overly concerned. A glance in the mirror made me grimace more. Streaks of dirt covered my face and my hair—well, let’s just say that open train windows really miffed the hair-gods, and I found myself with a giant poof of hair that could have trumped any ‘80s Dallas Cowboy cheerleader’s ‘do.
Two minutes after I got into the shower, Matt banged on the door. “Food is here.”
I turned off the mostly cold shower—tropical resorts don’t believe in hot water—and hurriedly got dressed. I pulled on long pajama bottoms—this part of Asia had no concept of shorts (someone might see my ankles and be offended, while bare midriffs on saris produced yawns)—and a long-sleeved top with a tank. I bought the tank separately—an item too shocking to be sold with the pajama set itself. Okay, I sounded bratty, even to myself. I ran my fingers through tangled wet hair and winced as it strained the follicles.
It’s just that—I missed home.
I yanked the door open to find Matt standing outside, one hand lifted in the air, mid-knock. His thin T-shirt stretched over his long, lean chest. A soft rumble of want flickered in his eyes. I must have stared too long because he dropped his arm, mumbling, “Let’s eat.”
I stared after him, my nerves jangling. To my surprise, a small dining table was already set up, the food divided on two plates, and steaming hot cups of tea were poured. Matt sat down. I pulled out my chair and did the same. Vane always waited for me to sit first. Without looking at me, Matt pulled out the same blue guidebook from the train and started reading as he ate. Conversation was not on the menu, it seemed.
I was too hungry to care. I mostly polished off my plate and tea while Matt took small bites of his as he read. Nearly satiated, I paused to chew. “If we have to get up early, should I set an alarm?”
Matt didn’t look up from the guidebook.
I waved a hand in front of his face. “Matt, did you arrange for a wake-up call?”
“Hmm….” He flipped a page on the guidebook, taking a bite.
I put down my fork with a sharp clank. “Are you being annoying on purpose? Because it’s working.”
Matt