“Julian.” Poppy’s voice cuts through my surveillance. “You’re doing it again. Disappearing inside your head.”
I lace my fingers through hers. She doesn’t flinch anymore—doesn’t tense at the coolness of my skin. She’s becoming accustomed to me. To my strangeness. To all the ways I don’t quite fit.
That should frighten me. It does frighten me.
But not enough to make me let go.
“I’m here,” I tell her. “Present. With you.”
“Are you?”
“I’m trying to be.”
Something shifts in her expression.
“I guess that will work,” She squeezes my hand. “For now.”
I need to tell her about Damien and explain the danger. Give her the choice to run.
But I’m afraid of losing this. Losing her. So I ignore the warnings, and raise her hand to my lips. Kiss her knuckles, and watch the blush climb her cheeks.
“Tonight,” I say. “After the rehearsal dinner. I’ll tell you everything.”
“Everything?”
“Enough.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No. But it’s what I can offer.”
She studies me, weighing my words. I can see her cataloging my evasions, adding them to whatever file she’s been building since we met.
“Okay,” she says finally. “Tonight.”
We return to the suite in the late afternoon. The golden hour light streams through the windows, painting everything in warm amber.
Poppy disappears into her room to shower and change. I stand at the window, watching the sun descend toward the horizon.
A buzz from my phone breaks up my peace.
DAMIEN: She’s lovely when she laughs. You almost look human when you make her do it.
My hand tightens on the phone.
DAMIEN: The rehearsal dinner should be entertaining. I’ve arranged to be seated nearby. Old friends catching up. Your girlfriend won’t mind, will she?
I don’t respond. Responding is what he wants. Confirmation that he’s gotten under my skin. Evidence that I care enough to be threatened.
A third message:
DAMIEN: You were careless today, Julian. In the water. On the beach. You forgot to look for me. You forgot I was watching.
He’s right.
The realization hits me like a physical blow. For hours—for most of the day—I’d been so focused on Poppy that I’d let my guard down. Let myself be distracted by the warmth of her hand, the sound of her laugh, the impossible hope building in my chest.
I’d forgotten to be afraid.
