“She’s just doing her job. So, Rebecca, welcome to the circus. What’s first? You want a tour?” He settles a penetrating stare on me. Very penetrating. So fully and completely penetrating, I start to feel it in other places. Stop it, Rebecca! What the hell is wrong with you? I shudder from my own thoughts.
“She probably just had a tour,” Laura quips.
Ben narrows his eyes at her, and they exchange a look I wish I hadn’t seen. My skin burns beneath my shirt when he takes my arm. Burns. But with a heat that feels dangerous. Distracting and warm. At least I don’t get a vision this time because of the fabric separating us.
“Sorry about her. She’s in a mood today. Something about a hairdryer malfunction.”
“You’re such a dick!” she snaps back, and stalks off to her room.
Wow. Laura is in massive need of a hug. Maybe her pants are too tight. They’d make anyone cranky.
Ben offers a sheepish grin which helps a little. “It’s not you, trust me. Okay, so you’re over here.”
He leads me to one of the four doors opening to the common area, and I hesitate once more like the first-time Disney princess I’ve become. Even the door is nicer than anything in myhometown. I grip the antique pewter handle with one hand and press my other palm against the smooth wood. Does Ben think I’m insane? Probably. He knows it when I push the door open and my eyes widen in shock. I’m sure I look like a two-year-old who just discovered bubbles, but the bed is big enough for three and I have no idea why I’d need so many pillows. A delicately carved desk fills an alcove beneath a stained glass window that almost makes me want to do schoolwork again. Almost.
Then my gaze settles on a breathtaking stone mantel surrounding a giant, honest-to-goodness fireplace. Damn, this place begs to be haunted.
“I’m guessing this is nicer than what you’re used to,” Ben says with more than a hint of amusement in his voice.
I nod in wonder as I continue to study the oversized room and adjoining bathroom. “We saw a sample on our first visit, but it certainly wasn’t this one.”
“They wouldn’t have gone near Birchwood, trust me.”
I sober a bit at his words. There it is again. Birchwood. Said with an air of eerie mystique. “Why not? Wouldn’t they want to put their best rooms on display?”
Ben’s lip curls as he points toward the bedroom door near mine. “Even a canopy bed wouldn’t win recruits if Daniel was on the tour. They wouldn’t take the risk.” A sudden darkness settles over his features.
“Daniel? He’s our other suitemate?”
There’s that look again. The same reservation Maria covered up in Clausen’s office. Ben seems to do the same when he dismisses his previous gloom with a wave. “Anyway, he’s too busy getting wrecked and picking fights to show his face much. Don’t worry about him.”
I cringe and study the depressing door for another moment before focusing back on my own palace suite. Maybe the curse Maria feared wasn’t campus royalty clique drama after all. Iforce away the dark thoughts. Who has time for phantom outcasts when you have an eight-foot bookcase for the two books I brought?
“What about my room? Who had it before me?”
If the question bothers Ben, he disguises it well with another smile. I suspect he accomplishes a lot with those full lips and perfect, white teeth. Those eyes. That hair. Damn, everything about him seems geared to turn girls like me into mush. And I am not the mushy type. “Oh, well, she moved on. Madison isn’t for everyone.”
I nod through his unsatisfying explanation—the way his gaze darted away when he gave it told me more. But I do things like that. Ask questions I shouldn’t and ignore the ones I should. Another symptom of knowing things I shouldn’t.
“So is it too early to talk about your gift?” Ben asks, rescuing me from my dangerous thoughts. Imagination and ironing: vices of my destruction.
It appears my belongings had been delivered as promised, and I hoist a suitcase on the bed. “That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”
“True. Mine is a bit of a headache if you haven’t noticed.”
“Let me guess, you’re cursed with being ridiculously good-looking?”
He laughs. “Something like that. What about you?”
I tug at the broken zipper on my bag, still not sure about any of this. About him. “I get flashes when I touch people. Past and future.”
“Really? Wow. You must have some great conversations.”
I clear my throat. “Actually, the opposite.” He’ll find out in all of three seconds.
“Wait, you shook my hand earlier. Did you see anything good?”
“A man pushed you on the deck of a boat and broke your arm.”
