Buried (Bailey Roberts Trilogy #1) Editing

29: Breakeven [3rd Draft]

Damien scoffed. " flirting? You're the one that said I had manly muscles."

Bailey refrained from biting her lip and stepped back from Sam, her heart thudding in her chest at his teasing smile. Damien's eyes widened at the sudden weight. He let out a muffled grunt as he bent down and swept her dragging feet.

"What if I dropped her?"

Bailey shrugged and reached over to pat his shoulder. "I have utter faith in your manly muscles, Damien," she said before climbing the stairs.

When she got to her room, she darted for the teal pair of underwear on the floor and kicked it under her bed. She closed her bathroom door – there was no hope in making everything look decent – and threw a clean shirt over her laundry hamper. Bailey glanced at her unmade bed and debated but Damien called out to her before she could decide.

"Bails? Where's your room?"

With a quick inhale exhale, she took a few steps towards the door and pushed it open, gesturing at him with her hand. He hauled Sam to the bed and put her underneath the covers, carefully setting her head on Bailey's pillow.

Damien straightened and turned towards Bailey, his nose wrinkling with distaste as he settled his gaze on her. "It smells like a gym locker in here. When's the last time you cleaned this place?"

Her jaw dropped and she scoffed. "I'm sorry this isn't The Ritz! And, you know, cleaning isn't the most important thing on my mind right now."

He held his hands up another smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "Okay. You're right."

Bailey swallowed and bowed her head. "I'll be back," Bailey whispered, turning towards her bathroom.

She pushed the door open enough for her to get in but not enough for him to see the mess inside. Grabbing a clean washrag, she reached for the hot water handle on the faucet and held the rag under the warming stream. She twisted the rag until it stopped dripping and walked out as carefully as she'd gone in.

"What's that for?"

"To wash her face," Bailey said as she sat on the edge of the bed and leaned forward to run the wet cloth down the dark streaks of dirt on Sam's face.

The back of Bailey's neck prickled. She turned her head and peeked from underneath her eyelashes to see Damien frowning deeply as he watched.

"It's not much. I just don't think she'll want to look at a dirty face in the mirror," Bailey said, biting her lip at awkward tension in the room.

"No – I – that's fine. Sam will appreciate it."

When Bailey finished, she stood from the bed and threw the washrag in a corner. She heard Damien snort before she turned towards him. "What?"

"Nothing," he said. "So, are we gonna talk about the elephant in the room?"

Bailey blinked and glanced around. "What? There's no elephant."

Damien chuckled, bowing his head. The slope of his nose and the curve of his stubble covered jaw reflected in the vanity mirror.

"No. Stop. That was stupid," Bailey said stumbling over her words. She scrapped her bottom teeth over her upper lip and nodded. "So the elephant in the room?" Bailey gestured towards Sam but Damien shook his head.

"Not that one." Damien folded his arms over his chest and took a step towards Bailey. "Are you a precog?" He laughed and rolled his eyes. Staring up at the ceiling, he spoke again. "It sounds crazy but I know what I saw, and what you've been saying for months. I think you know too. You were gonna say it in the car. Everything is happening almost exactly as you've said. I mean, there's only two possible explanations and the other one is way more ludicrous."