Finding It (Losing It, #3)(30)

Definitely military. I had a brief flash of memory of a USMC tattoo across someone’s back and knew it had to be his.

I said, “Well at least one of us feels good.”

He reached forward and curled a hand around the back of my neck. His fingers kneaded softly, and goose bumps prickled across my skin. The gesture was intimate, and the need to know what happened the other night rose up again like bile. And before I could think too much about the answers I didn’t want to hear, I said, “What happened the other night?”

He hesitated, and then his hand slipped off my skin.

“Why don’t you tell me what you remember, and I’ll fill in the blanks.”

I leaned my shoulder against his bunk and squinted up at him.

“The last thing I clearly remember is arguing with you. I’ve got bits and pieces of other things. Conversations. I remember holding a drink, maybe two, but that’s it.”

“Nothing else?”

He looked both relieved and disappointed.

I swallowed and shook my head.

He sighed and touched my shoulder, lightly this time and only for a few seconds.

“Let’s get off the train, and then I’ll tell you whatever you need to know.”

I nodded. “I need to look for Jenny, too. We were supposed to meet before the train, but I couldn’t find her.”

“I’ll help you look.”

I followed behind Hunt, trying to remember for sure where that tattoo had been. Before he descended the stairs down onto the platform, he said, “By the way, that argument we had? You probably don’t remember this, but you totally apologized and said you were wrong. Just so you know.”

I scoffed, and pushed him to the stairs. “Even without my memory, I know that’s bullshit.”

He took the stairs quickly, and then held out a hand with a smile.

“It was worth a shot.”

He helped me down the stairs and released my hand quickly after my feet were on the platform.

“Better luck next time, soldier.”

I flashed back to last night, to before the argument. I remembered the way he looked at me, and I could almost recall the way it had felt when he’d trailed his fingers up my leg. And now he only touched me for chivalry’s sake. What did that mean? We’d argued, but he still took me home, so the argument couldn’t have been that bad. But he was treating me differently. The question was why.

Together we searched the platform, looking for a familiar form. I climbed the stairs leading up into the main part of the station, but even from that vantage point, I didn’t see Jenny. We walked from one end of the station to the other, talking as we searched.

Even though he’d promised answers, I didn’t ask any questions. Not yet. I kept wavering on whether or not I actually wanted them.

Instead, he asked, “So what are you going to do in Prague?”

I shrugged. “I’m not really sure. Something fun. Something to remember.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. An adventure. I don’t want to just do the tourist thing. I want to do something original, you know?”

He nodded. “I get that.”

I checked the stalls in the women’s restroom while he waited outside, and I did the same while he checked the men’s. After nearly half an hour, we exited the station in a last-ditch effort to see if perhaps they were waiting outside.

They weren’t.

“Well, what do we do now?” Hunt asked.

“We?”

“I’m following you, remember?”

That was one of the few things I remembered.

“I don’t know. I guess we’re on our own.”

I could have made more of an effort. I could have found Internet access somewhere and messaged her on Facebook. And maybe I would later. Right now, I was more intrigued with this “we” idea of Hunt’s.

“In that case, let’s go explore Prague.” He hitched his backpack higher on his shoulders and started walking.

I stayed where I was and called, “Should we find a place to stay? I think they have a metro system here and trolleys.”

“We’ll get to all that. For now, let’s just walk.”

My jaw dropped. He couldn’t possibly serious. I was tired and cranky and my backpack was heavy.

“Why would we do something as stupid as that?”

He smiled. “Because you wanted an adventure.”

Then he started walking, and this time he didn’t stop when I called. I stood in disbelief for a few seconds before jogging to catch up with him. My lungs protested from the twenty seconds of almost-running, so I had a feeling they would start an all-out revolution on this “adventurous” walk.

I said, “I can have an adventure without gaining bunions and ruining my pedicure.”

He shook his head. “I’m fairly certain it’s in the dictionary that it’s impossible to have an adventure while worrying about things like pedicures.”

Hunt had picked up a map at the train station, and he said there was a neighborhood not too far away that should have plenty of inns and hostels to choose from. We’d go there first.

It wasn’t exactly my idea of an adventure. I still would have preferred a taxi or the metro. But I did have to admit, it was refreshing to walk the stone sidewalks and take in the architecture. There were plenty of modern buildings and restaurants, but occasionally we’d turn a corner, and I’d feel like I stepped straight into a fairy tale, complete with stone gargoyles staring down at us from half the buildings we passed.