“You’re sad.” From the top step, Hector held up a cup of coffee. “What’s going on?”
I didn’t bother arguing. “You’re going to drop this in the middle of the ocean, and I’ll never see it again.” I touched the rough sketch I’d done of the chariot and Achilles, drawing his attention to it. “I’ll burn this, and the memories will fade and it will be like it never happened.”
“Even after seeing it?” he asked.
Glancing at him sharply, I found him staring intently at my drawing. It was a decent facsimile. I had practiced my butt off in preparation for a life in the field, but it wasn’t anywhere close to the real thing.After seeing it?
Achilles’ memory.
“No, I’ll never forget the real thing.” That was a whole different thing to obsess over. “You must think I’m shallow.”
He glanced up. “No.”
I’d really wronged Hector, and I wouldn’t be able to undo it. He’d probably never forgive me, and that was definitely something I wouldn’t forget. My memory for my failings was elephant-like.
Sitting at the desk, I turned on the lights I’d set up last night. With the sun, it was a bit like sitting in a tanning bed with no sunglasses—or that was what I imagined it was like. As an easy-burner, tanning beds were off limits.
I aimed the light directly on a rounded side and began to brush away the sand. Hector stood behind me, placed the coffee near my elbow, and watched.
He didn’t say a word, and he didn’t move away. Every molecule in my body was tuned into him, and my hand shook a little as I put aside the brush for the tiny pick.
“Do I make you nervous?” he asked. Moving closer, so I could feel the heat coming off his body, he leaned over the desk. One arm was braced near the mug of coffee, and the muscles in his forearms flexed.
I shouldn’t have been noticing that.
If I even touched upon the memories of Pollux’s kiss, my lips would ache. So I shouldn’t notice Hector and his heat. Or his deep voice and intrusive questions.
“I’m not good with people,” I replied, which wasn’t an answer, but I hoped he wouldn’t catch onto it.
“Not what I asked.”
Damn.
“A little.” I owed Hector honesty, even if I tried to get away with skirting it.
He grunted and I leaned a little more over the stone. The only sound in the room was the gentle scrape of the pick, and our breathing.
“Your coffee is going to get cold.”
The last thing I needed was caffeine on an empty stomach, but I didn’t want to offend him. Placing the pick carefully on the desk, I picked up the mug of coffee, pausing when I saw the light color.
“I noticed your grimace when you drank it black, even though you didn’t say a word about it.”
“I was a guest.” And some rules had been hammered into my head. “Thank you. I do prefer it with cream.”
I took a sip. It was still warm, but cool enough I wondered how long I’d left it sitting. I reached for my phone, flipped it up to see the time and noticed even more missed calls and messages. Hector shifted, leaning forward to see the phone and grunted again. “You’re not going to call any of them back?”
Taking another sip, I shook my head. “No. I sent an email to the dean, he’ll pass any needed information on. My classes aren’t until the end of the week, and if I need to, I can have a grad student take them on.”
“What do they want?” He asked the question, but the confidence in his voice made it clear I needed to be up front. Hector was very bossy, but at least I knew where I stood with him.
“Quotes on Diana’s find. Answers about why I didn’t find it first when I had been researching the Lighthouse in Alexandria for months. Proof that I hadn’t actually stolen her thunder back when I found the first shard as it seemed clear that Diana must have had something to do with it. How would she have found another piece if she hadn’t?”
“Did you tell the dean of your suspicions?” The ones that I had told him on our ride to the station yesterday.
“No,” I answered. “I’m hesitant to send anything important over email. And he could be feeding her information about what I’m doing, so why bother?” I trusted these guys, including Achilles, more at this point than anyone else in my life.
And wasn’t that depressing.