It’s a terribly empty feeling, being without him again after all this time.
“Hey,” he says quietly.
I brush a wave off his forehead, making sure I run my fingers along the scar—his eyes shutter closed—and I wish, not for the first time, I had some sort of magic healing touch. I don’t, so I smile gently instead. “Hi.”
“You okay?” He grabs my hand, pressing his mouth across the tips of my fingers.
I’m not sure how to answer that because I am—as okay as I’ve been since the night he got hurt, but that’s not right and it’s not really okay because it’s this sense of comfort and security based in reassurances and obsessions and compulsions, not facts.
But I don’t have to answer, because something that sounds distinctly like a hand smacking against the door comes from just outside the room.
“Sloan?” Tia calls, voice muffled. “Are you in there? Are you okay?”
Bohdan shifts, the lines of his face softening with a slow grin that reminds me of who he was when we first met.
I wrinkle my nose, smiling. It is a bit like being back in college—all the times we’d sneak away from a party because we couldn’t wait to be alone, and our friends would inevitably come looking for us.
“I’m fine,” I answer, and Bohdan starts to trace my freckles with his thumb.
“Sloany?” Talon shouts this time, before trying to open the door. “Why the fuck is this door locked?”
An exasperated groan. Jay. “Because it’s her room, man.”
“So?” I can’t see them, but I imagine Talon throwing his hands up in the air before he tries the door handle again. “We really need to talk to you. It’s an emergency.”
“It’s not really,” Tia yells back.
“No, I really think it is. Sloany!” Talon smacks the door again.
Bohdan exhales, a muscle in his jaw twitching, and he presses his thumb to my cheek, cupping the side of my face before his eyes cut to the door. “This ship better be fucking burning down, Talon.”
Silence.
I feel a bit like laughing, and I bite down on my lip. Bohdan smiles, the left side of his mouth kicking up.
“Oh. You’re not ... alone, then?” Talon asks, and the door handle gives a resigned, half-hearted shake.
“I think the sound of Bohdan’s voice answers that for you.” Jay sounds like he’s rolling his eyes.
Another smack on the door, but it’s lighter this time. Tia. “Sloan? Are you sure you’re okay in there?”
The muscle in Bohdan’s jaw feathers again, his hand tightens against my cheek before he pushes to stand.
I sit up, gathering the blankets around me, and watch Bohdan rake a hand through already dishevelled hair, all the muscles in his back contracting, and the ones running along his legs and quads popping when he tugs his shorts back on and hands me his shirt.
“We were alone, until you three decided to come along and ruin it.” He waits until I’m safely covered up before he starts towards the door. He pulls it open, just a crack, positioning his body between me, here in this bed, and them on the other side. “And she’s fine.”
More silence.
I see the top of Talon’s expertly styled curls popping over Bohdan’s head like he’s trying to peek inside the room, but Bohdan shifts and closes the door more. “I don’t smell any smoke, Talon. What’s so fucking urgent?”
“Sloan—this seems ill-advised.” Tia tries to duck around Bohdan.
“This seems like it’s starting to get a bit inappropriate. You guys can just meet us at the bar,” Jay starts to interject.
But Talon talks over him. “Inappropriate? Oh yeah, like these two have ever cared about propriety. Making us watch for years while they hung off each other, and subjecting us to whatevertorment is going on this week? I think we deserve to know what’s going on. To see the fruits of our labour, so to speak.”
“Just let them in.” I roll my eyes.
