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I snicker. I bend sideways to pick up the kitten, but he stops me, face turning serious.
“Before I forget.” He takes my hand, turns it palm up and deposits something small and cold in its center, closing my fingers over it.
I jerk back, alarmed. “Aah what is it? A worm?”
His brows lift. He takes a moment to speak. “Of course a worm is a sure sign of undying love, but I thought you might want something more concrete.”
I choke. Open my hand.
It’s a key.
I look up and he winks. “To the apartment?”
“No, to a BDSM club, but if you want the one to the apartment, sure, I can get it for you.”
I swat at him. “Stop it.” I’m not going to cry. Why am I so emotional with him? Every little thing he does or doesn’t do means so much. “Thank you.”
“Listen, I’m selfish, Cos. This is what I’ve wanted all along. To have you here, with me.”
I press myself to him, like I want to crawl under his skin, burrow right into him. He hugs me and turns us slowly in a circle, as if dancing.
The kitten skitters away with a growl.
“My dreams will end,” he whispers, and we’re still turning, the walls turning into the streaks of wishing stars. “This mess will clear up, and when it’s done, I’ll have you. Life is good with you, CosieCat. I’m so damn lucky.”
We come to a stop, breathing hard, and I look up, my arms still locked around his hips.
“You really think that if you remember everything, the dreams will stop?”
He stares down at me, his grin faltering, blue eyes going to pale gray. “I have to hope they will. If I’m so lucky, then it should work out, right?”
That’s some wonky logic right there, especially since it relies on the assumption I’m so good for him—and why not? Why do I have to always doubt it? He’s good for me, and I’m good for him, and we’re great together. Isn’t that what love is all about?
Making each other happy.
Which brings me back to my sister and Griffin, and whether love is enough to make you happy—and didn’t I just say it was?
I’m giving myself a headache.
Until he kisses me, ending the endless vicious circle. “I can hear you thinking.”
“It’s not what you think,” I whisper, though I have no idea what he’s thinking. Spinning my doubts into gold, I ask, “You said you had news?”
“Oh yeah. Come here.” He leads me to the living room couch and sits down, pulling me on top of him so I’m straddling his lap, his arms around me. “Don’t freak out.”
“What? Why?”
“A body was found. A skeleton, rather.”
“Where you said it would be?”
“Yeah.” There’s a scratching quality to his voice, a caged feeling clawing at the surface, and I can’t tell if it’s relief or fear.
So I nod, at a loss for words. Like everything that took place yesterday, I sort of expected this and yet it hits me like a crumbling wall, flooring me. As exciting as the thought was that his dreams are reality, not finding proof would have been… reassuring.
Who wants their nightmares to turn out to be true?
“Cos,” he says, “I’m going back to Destiny. Alone.”
