To Rap's credit, she doesn't react. She simply nods, eyes cast down as if thinking it through.
"I don't know how to help her," I say, in a rare moment of vulnerability fueled by the excellent liquor.
Rap jerks at that. “Don’t be an idiot. Youarehelping her.”
I rub my forehead.
“Hey.”
Her “Hey,” cracks like a whip, snapping my head up before I can stop it.
“Sometimes you can’t fix it. Sometimes just showing up, being the one who stays, is the only thing that gets someone through.”
It doesn’t feel like enough. I’m her protector. I should force her to go home, to keep her in that safe bubble she hates.
More than that, I should be the one kissing her, touching her, feeding her. Instead, it’s anyone but me.
It’s always bothered me, but the rum allows me to admit to myself the pain of it has sharpened since we came to this place.
I'm back to holding my head in my hands. "It's complicated."
"You love her." Rap shrugs. "There's nothing complicated about that."
Her words strike me at the core.
It’s not like I hide it, but there’s something about having it so blatantly laid out. I’m hopelessly, madly, irreversibly in love with Aurora.
But Rap is wrong about one thing. Loving her is complicated because where I’ll never get the satisfaction of expressing that love, she’s taken away the one thing I clung to being able to provide. Safety.
As soon as Rap retreats to her office, Snow and Ariel insist Aurora and I head out for the night first, though we all live in the same building. They say we both look tired, and neither of us argue.
The girls are smart enough to know something is brewing, but they don’t seem to push Aurora for answers. They give her space and encouragement as they can. Still, it’s best we keep Aurora’s...condition a secret, even from them.
As Aurora and I head down the street, the earlier events of the day begin to crowd in on us. The unspoken events become heavier with each step we take until I think she's going to avoid the whole thing.
"Thank you," she says finally. Contrary to how she was in the bar, she seems small, vulnerable now.
“You're welcome.”
She gives me a weak smile.
"But we shouldn't be crossing all these lines. Involving me like that today is a bad idea. We can't do it again."
The smile disappears. Hurt flashes across her face, but it quickly turns into something else. "You didn't like it? You didn't like what you saw?"
They aren't questions, they are accusations.
I stop walking, forcing her to do the same. "Aura," I start as I scrub a hand over my face. "You know that's not it."
"Don't I? I'm constantly in a vulnerable position around you, and you couldn't give me alittlevulnerability back?"
This is about me not undressing for her. Suddenly my temper flares too. "Youknowwhy. That path can only lead to pain. It's better not to entertain impossibilities. It will only hurt us both."
"Does it have to? Have we ever even tried, Talon? Snow asked me why you don't slap on a pair of fae fabric gloves and finger diddle me like you are always so clearly pining to do so."
"Finger diddle?" My brain short-circuits at the visual, equal parts horrified and tempted.
"Her words, not mine. Don’t change the subject. The point is, I didn't have an answer for her, and Ishould. Because if two people love each other, they try to do everything they can tomake it work, and we've never even given this thing," she waves a hand between us, "a real shot."
