“And came back with only one bag? You’re losing your touch,” Tom teases, his tone softer for Sylvie, than it is for Dax.
“Nuh uh.” She shakes her head exaggeratedly, leaning into him so that her nose rubs his. He pulls away and clutches his hand to his wound. Sylvie darts backwards, deflated by his rejection and clearly concerned that she’s hurt him, then stares at his bandaged chest as she speaks.
“Cas took the rest. That’s just the final things we grabbed for Jules. We didn’t have time to drop it off. We came straight here.” Her tone is still flat, her exuberance tamed.
“And you made it in one piece, I see?” Tom lifts his arm with a wince to flick her nose. He gives her a cheeky wink and bolsters her once more. She smiles at him softly and draws out her response. He’s dented her confidence in him.
“Stop teasing. My driving is fine. Good even.”
“If Jules says it is, then I’ll believe you,” Tom jokes. The mention of my name shuts her down again.
I can see that my responses are crucial in whatever game Tom is playing with both Sylvie and Dax. I throw Sylvie a smile anddefend her. “We’re here, aren’t we? I have to give her credit; she knows her way around town. We got here in a blink of an eye.”
“It doesn’t count as a blink if you kept your eyes shut tight, Jules.” Tom laughs earning himself a sharp slap from Sylvie. He rubs his upper arm where a red mark blooms.
“What was that for?”
“Maybe they should put you back to sleep. You’ve woke up as an arsehole.” Sylvie marches from the room, leaving Dax and me in stunned silence. I agree with her wholeheartedly. Since I’ve walked in the room, Tom has done nothing more than antagonise everyone worried about him.
“Perhaps we should leave you to rest?” Dax takes a step toward the door, releasing my arm. I rise to follow him out, but Tom shifts in his bed, pulling himself up with a strained groan.
“Wait!”
“You are clearly not in the mood for visitors. I’ll bring Sylvie back later,” Dax chides.
Tom leans forward, hunching his shoulders. Agony flashes across his face, but he squeezes his eyes shut against the pain to continue talking. “Then can I have a few words with Jules? Seeing as you clearly have no intention of letting her near me again.”
“That’s up to her.” Dax faces me, whether I’ll stay to hear Tom out or follow him is a question written in his eyes. I’m a rope they each tug at, hoping to win. They’ve forgotten I’m my own person.
“Two minutes,” I warn, “or I might lose my ride.”
“I’ll wait for you at the elevator,” Dax grunts as he exits, thankfully not catching the look of victory that dances in Tom’s eyes.
He holds out his hand, directing me to sit. I look over at the chair I just vacated and shake my head. “I’ll stand, thank you.”
“Okay. I guess I deserve that. I’m sorry for being an arse.”
At least he recognises it. “It’s not me you should be apologising to.”
“I know,” he groans, but he doesn’t look the least bit sorry. “I’ll talk to her. She’ll forgive me. She knows what I can be like.” My God, I saved an entitled man-child. I should have guessed as much. I mean, he’s from the Heights but I kind of hoped he’d be a little more like Dax and less like the stereotype rich boy.
“It sounds like you’re not sorry at all, if you already consider her forgiveness as given.”
“I’m not really an arsehole. I just sound like one,” he insists.
“Look, I am really glad you’re okay, more than I can even put into words, but—”
“Thank you,” he blurts, interrupting me. “I’d have died without you. I know that. I want you to know I plan on making it up to you.”
I shake my head again. “There’s no need.” And why is this sense of responsibility the thing that finally shows me some familial resemblance? For being at each other’s throats, they are a lot alike.
“But it’s the least I can do. For a girl who only had TV as her teacher, you did a great job of keeping me alive. I dreamed of your face. Even when things were at their darkest, I saw you there, leading me out. You can understand why I thought of you as an angel. You weremyangel,” he speaks softly, and from the sweet sincerity he deliberately tries to convey, I can tell he thinks he means it, but his words are so…fanciful. He imagined something in his trauma-induced mind that I can never match up to. Nor would I want to.
Still, he’s just proven that he remembers that night. Hearing him tease me brings a smile to my lips, but I also can’t allow him to continue with the idea that he needs to repay me or reward me for what should be a natural human instinct.
“Tom. I—”
“No, Jules, I mean it. Don’t get me wrong, it’s also good to know you’re mortal. Maybe then I stand a chance.” His eyes twinkle as the side of his mouth kicks up into a teasing smirk.
