<Cordelia, I was worried you wouldn’t return!> His warm, violet eyes don’t leave Cordelia’s. She closes the door behind her, her hand resting on the handle. Should she be here? The thought of having his lips upon hers again—is that why she’s here? Judging by the way he eyes her—he knows it too. <Have you come back to finish what we started?>

To say she was changed by a kiss was utter ridiculousness. But, here she was. In his room—two days after their date. If he stirred her up with only kisses, then what else was he capable of? Cordelia would be her own undoing. God, she wanted to kiss him again.

<I’m here because I did my own research—about what happened to you.>

<You did? Why didn’t you ask Phoebe, I’m sure she would have told you if you asked.>

<I haven’t seen her since. My father said she’s tied up.>

<That would explain why she didn’t drop in.> Radjerd moves over, patting down a spot beside him. <Please, sit.>

Cordelia hesitates, <I don’t know about that.>

<What’s the harm? Phoebe’s not here to scold you.>

<But my father is. If he knows we kissed—>

<Cordelia, just sit.> He instructs. <I won’t bite.>

Cordelia watches him as she sits on the bed, a spring squeaks with the added weight. Her gut swirls in anticipation—no—her imagination’s betraying her. Damn, why did she have to find him hot?

<What did you find out?> He asks.

Cordelia replies, <Only if you tell me what happened to my mother.>

<That would imply that you believe me.>

Cordelia shakes her head. <I don’t believe in dimension travel. But, I want to know what you were going to say at the meal—you changed subjects so fast, it leads me to believe that you didn’t mean to tell me. Why was that?>

<It seemed a moot point—as you said you don’t believe in dimension travel. But I’ll tell you if you really want to know.>

Cordelia nods, <I do.>

He exhales slowly. <Fitz told me his mother—your mother—passed away when he was fifteen.>

Cordelia squints, attempting to understand what she heard. <Passed away—like—she died?>

<Yes. I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but that’s why Aleck had the watch designed—to go back in time to prevent it.>

Cordelia takes a minute to process what he said. Even if it was a lie, the mere thought of her mother dying—it burdens her heart. She didn’t agree with the woman most times, but she’d never wish harm on her.

Her gut clenches, <How did she die?>

<She was in an accident, Aleck’s driver was the cause. Glen survived, Merise didn’t. He fired Glen soon after—or, the old man resigned from his guilt—I’m not sure.> Damn. Even if this was fabricated, he said it with such conviction that it’s hard not to believe it. <I didn’t want to tell you when we were out. It would have ruined the date.>

In a way, she’s glad he didn’t. But, if he told her then—would she have believed him?

<I’m happy to tell you that here, she’s alive and well. A bit stressed from work, but besides that.> Cordelia doesn’t get into specifics. It seems inappropriate given what Radjerd had said. <Thanks for telling me.>

<No worries.> He smiles gently. <I’m surprised you took it so well.>

<She’s alive and well here, so I have no concerns.> But it did sober her up a bit. Not that she agreed with her mother’s rules, but maybe she could apologise—just so she didn’t feel the guilt she harboured now. If her mother were to die in an accident, there would be a lot of unfinished business. Cordelia couldn’t bear the thought of it. <Truth be told, my mother and I aren’t on the best of terms, but that’s the card we were dealt.>

<Family can be difficult—I’m proof of that. My own father walked out on us when my sister died. Now that I’m older, I get it, but back then…it hurt a lot, you know? I looked up him and my sister. To lose both in one year—it does a lot to a kid.>

<That’s terrible… I’m sorry to hear that.> Cordelia feels foolish for complaining about her mother now.

<I acted out a lot as a kid—teen—and my early twenties. Landed up in jail for a while, but it wasn’t all bad. It forced me to turn my life around. Thankfully.>

Landed up in jail? Cordelia’s face whitens. In his early twenties—the Radjerd she read about—didn’t make it that far.

<So tell me. What did the internet tell you—about me, that is?> He says quietly.

There’s no escaping it—she had to tell him. <You were shot six years ago—a robbery gone wrong. You didn’t make it.>

<That explains …a lot actually. Phoebe’s dodgy behaviour, and the demand for my identity to be a secret. Good thing I smashed that guy’s camera huh?> His attempt to deliver humour to the situation covers how he feels; Cordelia knows. She used to do it too.

He catches her off guard when he asks, <Why are you working at Willa Corp if you’re so skeptical about dimension travel?>

<Because I’m staying out of the public eye—or haven’t you heard—that there’s a running hashtag attached to my name—#spoiledbratfirthe.>

He’s amused. <Well, are you a spoiled brat?>

<No.> She scowls at him.

<Really?> Radjerd says, unconvinced. He leans forward, a smirk graces his lips. <Not even a little bit?>

<Are you trying to piss me off?> She frowns deeply.

<No, just seeing what you look like when you’re mad. I got to know these things if we’re to see more of each other.>

<Don’t get the wrong idea.> She says with quickness to her voice. <I believe that you believe you’re from a different dimension, but it doesn’t prove anything. Research is one thing—but I still don’t even know why my father’s getting out of working here—or why he’s keeping it a secret from my mother.>

Shit! Cordelia covers her mouth—she can’t tell him everything!

<That’s strange…>

Cordelia narrows her eyes. <You sound surprised…>

<He seems the guy who’d tell his wife everything.> Radjerd shrugs. It sounds like a cover-up. She’ll let it slide—for now.

<Considering I just found out about Willa Corp the night you broke in, I’m not surprised she doesn’t know.>

<You still believe I broke in?> He says, disappointed.

She rolls her eyes. <Let’s not go there, shall we?>

<You’re right. Since Phoebe’s gone, how about we go out for a bit—I’ve been dying to leave. My sanity is dwindling.>

<No. Don’t need my father on my case.> Cordelia looks at his wrist. <You have that band on you, that should be enough to keep you in check.>

<…If I go outside with this thing, I’ll be tempted to make a run for it. God knows how long they’re going to keep me in here for.>

<So, tell me everything that you know—then you’ll be free.> A good point—why didn’t he? Oh right, because she’s the one who gives him the incentive. How on earth did she forget that?

<Alright. How about this—If you can ask your dad why he’s making the watch—I’ll tell you everything I know.> He clears his throat. <And, a second date. Overnight.>

God, how she hates that trickle in her gut.

<An overnight date?>

<You’re the one who suggested it, mind you.> He looks at her as he moves closer. <If that can’t be done, maybe I can get you alone in there.> He jerks his head in the direction of the bathroom.

Cordelia recoils, <Disgusting.>

<We’ll figure out the specifics later.> His laugh is smooth as his face relaxes. His eyes linger on her chin. <Damn, every time I look at you—I just want to devour those lips of yours.>

Cordelia attempts to glance at the window, but he turns her head around, pulling her into an intense liplock. A fervent urge washes through her, as she rakes her fingers through his hair. His lips travel to her neck as she lets out a soft gasp—it tickles!

<Damn, Cordelia.> He whispers against the corner of her mouth. <Why are you so addicting?>

<It’s only a kiss.> She whispers back.

<If I have you here any longer, it won’t be.> He leans her on her back, as he towers over her. Wait—was this happening—now?

The creek of the door jolts Cordelia out of her daze. Her head whips around to see a wide-eyed girl—no—that wasn’t just any girl.

It’s Phoebe’s cousin.

<I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize that—oh god!> She stammers, her face beet red.

How didn’t she? There’s a window smack in the middle of the wall that shows everything in this room.

<Calista—long time no see.> Radjerd replies with a hint of annoyance to his tone, easing off of Cordelia. She says nothing, choosing to observe—too embarrassed to speak.

<I’m filling in for Phoebe—she had to take an urgent call.> The redness stains the girl named Calista’s face.

<Are you now? That’s odd.> Radjerd remarks, his brow arched.

<It’s not that strange, she’s Phoebe’s cousin.> Cordelia adds. <I got that right—didn’t I?>

The tall girl nods.

<I should go.> Cordelia stands, brushing her dress as an attempt to compose herself. She sucks in the air between her teeth. <You know, since the day’s almost done, and I’m sure my dad’s looking for me.> Cordelia offers a small wave to both before leaving the room in a hurry, barrelling down the hall. Dammit.

She prays that Radjerd can keep Phoebe’s cousin quiet.