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“Tell me, Luca. Tell me what makes you unhappy or afraid when you think of us together. If you don’t tell me with words, you’re going to tell me in some other way. And it might not be pleasant.”
Well, that’s insightful. Fuck.
She grins. “Trust me, I’ve done therapy for years.”
“It helped?”
“Like magic. You should try it.”
“I have—only a little, though. I didn’t want to put them in a weird position.”
“Because of your work?”
I nod.
I can feel her eyes on me. I can feel her asking me for…I don’t even know what. I glance down at her, and out at the bookshelves in front of our chair. Then I close my eyes. A few seconds tick past. She shifts in my lap, curling closer to me…like a nudge without touch. And I just fucking do it.
“Sometimes it’s okay,” I manage. “Like…any normal person. But then something will shift. I’ll start…feeling weird again. Like being set off.” I open my eyes again, looking again at the shelf. “And it ends up that I can’t sleep. I don’t know why. That’s when I need to find someone who can help me.”
A moment passes. I can’t bring myself to look down at her.
“Is that the only thing?” she murmurs. “Or are there other things that give you trouble?”
“It doesn’t really matter.” I shut my eyes.
“Why does it not? Are you saying we won’t ever live together? You just said you want to be with me. So tell me who you are.” Her fingers trace my jaw. “I don’t care if you’re a werewolf and you never sleep. If you’ll cuddle me sometimes while I do, that works. If you don’t want me in your bed, we can get different beds. We could even have different rooms.”
“I want you in my room,” I manage.
“You’re afraid.”
I shut my eyes.
“Let me ask you something,” she says softly. “If you don’t take your women to the apartment, and they haven’t been in the tub, does that mean you haven’t dated very much?”
I can’t talk about this shit. I suck a breath in.
“Who cares? Tell me. I’ll tell you all my things. You’re my person. I hope I’m your person. Just…go for it, cuore.”
I rub my temples. “Yes, Elise. That’s what it means. It means that after you, I didn’t want to. And after that, it didn’t seem right. How could I make up for what I did with you, if not by…abstaining? And after that, what was the point? I would never bring a woman into this shit. When I started really feeling like I…” I shake my head. “That was about the time you were running for D.A. So I got caught up in that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I couldn’t think about anyone except you.” I let a long breath out, then force myself to look down at her. “That’s the story. No one in my tub, or in my house. My life’s not like the movies. There’s no prostitutes and every evening poker games and going door to door to bust knees if people don’t pay up. We don’t even run like that, like one big loan shark operation. I hate that shit.”
She’s nodding; even though I can tell she’s confused, she wants more. My eyes ache from the inside.
“I understand why you would,” she says softly. “Hate that.”
One tear slips. And then another one. It’s like the cabin, take two. Her fingers wipe the salty shit away, and then I’m hugging her again, like holding onto a damn life boat.
“All of this is going to be okay. We’ll find our way,” she whispers.
“I’m sorry that I…put us here.”
“You’re not going to be sorry. Be happy we’re here. We’re here because of my job almost more than yours. But if it weren’t for my job, you wouldn’t have noticed me again. You just said that, right? So how can we feel all bad?”
“That’s not true. I never forgot you.”
We kiss until I’m hard, and she looks tired and puffy-eyed. “You want to go to my place?” I hug her close.
She nods. “Maybe I can sleep over.”
“Maybe.” My voice sounds hoarse, so I swallow. She kisses my wrist.
“What was that for?” I smile down at her.
“Just because you’re looking like a snack in that shirt.”
I snort. Old-ass, long-sleeved T-shirt. I help her up and get my jacket off the back of the chair. Then we walk into the living room, where Dani’s doing something on her phone. She looks up, wide-eyed, and grins brightly when she sees our clasped hands.
“My little lovebirds, all made up.”
She gets up and does a funny penguin walk over. I notice her feet are in fuzzy gray house slippers. “What are those?” I frown down at them.
“They’re koalas! That’s my favorite animal.”
“Since she was ten.” Elise smiles, and the two of them exchange a funny look—this kind of girl look, like they’re trading information.
