taking me seriously. I walked over and sat across from him on the bed. “You should get a new toiletry bag. You can barely fit all your stuff in there. They do provide soap in hotels, you know.”
“You know it dries my skin out,” he replied, not taking his eyes off the file.
“Well, if you got rid of the soap container, you’d probably have room for more condoms.”
I expected a rise out of him, but he didn’t comply. He just stared at the file. “Thank you for the suggestion. I’ll take it under consideration.”
I lay down on the bed facing him. Even though I was staring at him, he didn’t register my presence. “So, are you married? Have a couple of little Lukes running around?”
“Not yet.”
“Doesn’t surprise me. You aren’t exactly the matrimonial type.”
“I’m not even going to ask what you mean by that.”
I turned onto my back and looked up at the off-white ceiling. It felt nice to lie down. Sleep began creeping up behind my eyes. They desperately wanted to close. I let out a big yawn that wracked my whole body.
“You going to fall asleep on my bed?” Luke asked.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I immediately sat up, a little too quickly. The room spun like a top, round and round and round. Residual effect of the booze. I groaned and put my head between my legs.
“Are you okay?” Luke asked. He was quickly beside me on the bed. “Are you having another panic attack?” His strong hands began kneading the tension out of my shoulders as he did in the good old days, and for a second everything but how great that felt fell away. Luke was always better at this than Hayden.
Hayden.
His smiling face flashed across my mind. Remembering myself, I shrugged Luke’s hands off.
“I’m fine,” I assured him. “Just sat up too fast.”
“When was the last time you got a good night’s sleep?”
“When I was in the hospital, what? Two years ago? I really should get some of what they gave me there.”
“Jesus,” he said under his breath.
“You’re surprised? We both know that insomnia is a symptom of post-traumatic stress. As are panic attacks, loss of appetite, nightmares, and depression. Lucky me—I hit the mother lode.”
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“Why, you asking me out?” I asked cattily. He didn’t smile. “I stopped going. It was useless.”
“Always have to do things on your own,” he said, shaking his head. “You should have called me.”
“We haven’t exactly been close for two years, Luke.”
“Whose fault is that?” he asked.
“
You
could have picked up the phone.”
“So could you.”
“Yeah, because this is going
so
well. We’re at each other’s throats already, and it’s been what? A total of twenty minutes?”
“You just bring out the bastard in me, Iris.”
“It’s a gift.” We both smiled. Just like old times. “So, what’s next? What’s our next move?”
He stood but stayed beside me. “
My
next move is to take these updated notes back to the team, see if it’s any help. I don’t know what your next move is, but I hope it involves getting help.”
I stood up quick as a flash. “No way you’re cutting me out of this now!”
“You’ve done all you can. Leave the rest to the professionals.” He sidestepped me, walking to the table. He began clearing the files off the table to ignore the look of death I was giving him.
I walked over and jerked the files out of his hands. “In case you forgot, I got the same training you did. I
am
a professional.”
He snatched the files out of my hand. “You
were
a professional. You quit.”
I fought the urge to smack him across the face, crossing my arms over my chest and balling my hands into fists. “What? Afraid I’ll steal your thunder? Solve it before you do?”
He jammed the files into his briefcase. I could tell I’d hit a sore spot. “Please. Even at your best you were never better than me.”
“If memory serves, it was
me
who talked down Bob Wallace from
“You know it dries my skin out,” he replied, not taking his eyes off the file.
“Well, if you got rid of the soap container, you’d probably have room for more condoms.”
I expected a rise out of him, but he didn’t comply. He just stared at the file. “Thank you for the suggestion. I’ll take it under consideration.”
I lay down on the bed facing him. Even though I was staring at him, he didn’t register my presence. “So, are you married? Have a couple of little Lukes running around?”
“Not yet.”
“Doesn’t surprise me. You aren’t exactly the matrimonial type.”
“I’m not even going to ask what you mean by that.”
I turned onto my back and looked up at the off-white ceiling. It felt nice to lie down. Sleep began creeping up behind my eyes. They desperately wanted to close. I let out a big yawn that wracked my whole body.
“You going to fall asleep on my bed?” Luke asked.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I immediately sat up, a little too quickly. The room spun like a top, round and round and round. Residual effect of the booze. I groaned and put my head between my legs.
“Are you okay?” Luke asked. He was quickly beside me on the bed. “Are you having another panic attack?” His strong hands began kneading the tension out of my shoulders as he did in the good old days, and for a second everything but how great that felt fell away. Luke was always better at this than Hayden.
Hayden.
His smiling face flashed across my mind. Remembering myself, I shrugged Luke’s hands off.
“I’m fine,” I assured him. “Just sat up too fast.”
“When was the last time you got a good night’s sleep?”
“When I was in the hospital, what? Two years ago? I really should get some of what they gave me there.”
“Jesus,” he said under his breath.
“You’re surprised? We both know that insomnia is a symptom of post-traumatic stress. As are panic attacks, loss of appetite, nightmares, and depression. Lucky me—I hit the mother lode.”
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“Why, you asking me out?” I asked cattily. He didn’t smile. “I stopped going. It was useless.”
“Always have to do things on your own,” he said, shaking his head. “You should have called me.”
“We haven’t exactly been close for two years, Luke.”
“Whose fault is that?” he asked.
“
You
could have picked up the phone.”
“So could you.”
“Yeah, because this is going
so
well. We’re at each other’s throats already, and it’s been what? A total of twenty minutes?”
“You just bring out the bastard in me, Iris.”
“It’s a gift.” We both smiled. Just like old times. “So, what’s next? What’s our next move?”
He stood but stayed beside me. “
My
next move is to take these updated notes back to the team, see if it’s any help. I don’t know what your next move is, but I hope it involves getting help.”
I stood up quick as a flash. “No way you’re cutting me out of this now!”
“You’ve done all you can. Leave the rest to the professionals.” He sidestepped me, walking to the table. He began clearing the files off the table to ignore the look of death I was giving him.
I walked over and jerked the files out of his hands. “In case you forgot, I got the same training you did. I
am
a professional.”
He snatched the files out of my hand. “You
were
a professional. You quit.”
I fought the urge to smack him across the face, crossing my arms over my chest and balling my hands into fists. “What? Afraid I’ll steal your thunder? Solve it before you do?”
He jammed the files into his briefcase. I could tell I’d hit a sore spot. “Please. Even at your best you were never better than me.”
“If memory serves, it was
me
who talked down Bob Wallace from
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