I fought the urge to laugh. She was funny, even in situations I wasn’t allowed to laugh at.
She knew me. Better than anyone. She knew the parts of me I didn’t share, my hopes and dreams, my fears.
“You know me, Shay,” I said again.
“Am I some kind of game to you? See how easily you can make the sad sick girl fall in love? God, I must be so fucking pathetic to you?—”
“Shay,” I said, voice tense. Trying to ignore the fact that she wasfalling in lovewith me.
But it clawed anyway.
Latched spiky teeth to my soul.
Love.
“I want more with you,” I said. “I want to hear you laughing and singing in the other room. I want to buy you books and listen to you talk about dark matter. I want to take care of you, because you deserve that, and because I feel so fucking lucky and honored that you’d let me. I want you leaving your clutter everywhere because it’s a sign that you’rehomewithme.I want a life.”
“Calder—”
I crushed my lips against hers, cutting off whatever she was going to say. Shemeltedinto me. Fingers fisting my shirt as shereleased a small gasp that I swallowed with a groan. I snaked my hands into her hair, gripping her skull, pulling her closer, kissing her like it was the last time, because it probably was.
It wasn’t enough.
I needed her in my fucking veins.
But I pulled back, and Shay’s eyes fluttered open. She had that dazed, sex-drunk look she got. Cheeks red and eyes hazy. I ran my thumb up and down her cheek.
Her gaze still on my mouth, she whispered, “Then why?”
“My life is dangerous, not just to me, but to the people I love. I can’t risk you getting dragged into that. I can’t have another person I love’s death on my hands.”
Her eyes popped up to mine. “Love?”
“Did you hear the first part of that? The part where I said you could die?”
“You love me?” she asked.
I dragged a hand down my jaw.
Yeah, I loved her.
That was the problem.
“Calder, I love y?—”
“Shay,” I cut her off before she said something she couldn’t take back. “I clean money for the Mafia.”
chapter
forty-eight
SHAY
I clean money for the Mafia.
I think the normal thing to do would be to accept that either he was telling the truth, or I was so clingy he had no choice but to come up with the most insane excuse to break up with me. Which wasn’t much better than the Mafia.
Instead of accepting it, I found myself hiding behind a menu.
