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I needed to talk to someone about this, but not anyone from Vigilance. Before I could stop myself, I was calling Sandra.
“Do you have any idea what time it is?” she asked when she answered after several rings.
“No.”
“Did you wake up from a dream?”
“Yes, but it’s not what you think. I just need to talk something through.”
“And you figured there was no reason to let me sleep since you couldn’t?”
I blew out a breath. “Sandra. Please.”
“Since you asked so nicely. I hadn’t expected to hear from you anytime soon. Are you back in Boston already?”
“How did you know I left town?” Her high-pitched laugh made me scowl.
“Darling, when are you going to accept that I know things? Let’s just leave it at that.”
There was a reason our relationship hadn’t worked out. It never took long for her to remind me of that. And yet there I was, calling her to talk through something when I needed a friend. We both still did that for each other.
“I assume you need something.”
I spat the words out before I could stop myself. “I think I’ve fallen in love.”
“Oh my God! Is it Meghan? Did you decide she was right for you after all?”
“No.”
“Who is it then? Stephanie? Julia?”
“No. Why would you think—”
“So it’s someone new. That makes more sense. What’s her name?”
“His name is Emilio.”
She gasped. “Say that again, Thomas.”
“You heard me. You never miss anything.”
“Emilio? The man who does your computer work?”
“How do you—”
“Hush.” I could just see her waving her hand to dismiss my question. “How long have you known?”
“That I’ve fallen for him?”
She huffed. “That you weren’t straight.”
“I… Not long. This isn’t something I’ve been hiding for ages. That’s part of the problem. I’m so fucking confused.”
“And willing to admit it to me? You really must be turned around.”
“I… I don’t know how to do this.”
“To love someone?”
I sighed. “No. Yes. I don’t know how to handle it when…”
“When what? You called me in the middle of the night. You confessed to falling in love with a man when you spent your whole life thinking you were straight. At this point, you might as well tell me everything.”
“How can I keep up my double life and have someone that I love? Will he even love me as Thomas?”
“He loves you as X?”
“I think so.”
She hummed. “I don’t know that I’ve ever seen you this unsure except when you decided not to be part of Lane’s life.”
“I’m sorry for that. I know I’ve said it before, but…”
“Wow, you really aren’t yourself today.”
“I’m not. I never expected this to happen.”
“Of course not. You resigned yourself to going out with people you like who are perfectly amiable, who amuse you and do well at social gatherings, and who have absolutely no idea who you really are.”
I stuck my toes in the water at the edge of the pool, needing its coolness. “You’re very honest in the middle of the night.”
“If you wanted anything other than honesty, you wouldn’t have called me.”
She was right about that.
“If you love him—and you obviously do if you’re willing to open up like this—then you can’t throw this away.”
“I don’t want to. If I thought it was that easy, I wouldn’t have called you, but who am I supposed to be with him? How can I let him into every aspect of my life?”
“You want that?”
“He’s a damn good hacker, so I definitely want him to be part of Vigilance.”
Sandra laughed. “You always want the best.”
“But if I love him, I want more than just a comfortable relationship. I need him to be part of my life as a Carrington, and I don’t know if he’d want to do that. He’s reclusive, and even if he weren’t, why would he want to be forced into the social circles I have to deal with?”
“You could ask him how he feels.”
I sighed.
“You haven’t said anything to him, have you? You probably haven’t even acted like you really like him.”
“That’s not true.”
“So you’ve told him you’re falling for him?”
Did she have to be so fucking annoying? “No. I… I told him he was mine.”
She huffed. “For someone like you, that’s basically the same thing.”
Right again.
“But does Emilio know that? Or does he think you’re playing a game?”
“I think he’s confused about how I feel.”
“Then you need to tell him the truth.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Neither is bringing down an evil congressman and the sex trafficking ring he’s part of, but you did that. Neither is saving people when everything you thought you knew about a mission blows up in your face.”
“Literally.”
“But you’ve done those things, and now you’re telling me you can’t tell one young—and he is really young, right?—computer geek that you care for him.”
“He’s twenty-five.”
“Xavier.” I heard the scowl in her voice. It had been ages since she’d called me that. I’d grown up as Thomas to nearly everyone, but at home, my mom had always called me Xavier. For one, it made it easier to distinguish me from my father, but it was also the name she would’ve given me if she hadn’t felt bound to the tradition of naming the first Carrington son after his father.
