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I laugh. “So my eyes need checked?”
“Your eyes,” she says, more seriously than me. “You’re the most beautiful thing in this ugly room, Zoey. If you can’t see it, it’s a good thing I’m here to remind you.”
And that—that gets me. It is a good thing you’re here, Kenobi.
My breath shallows, and my eyes fall to her lips. So close…so, so, so close. “Can I kiss you?” I ask, wanting that so badly. The intimacy. The love.
Her palm falls off my chin, leaving a biting cold. “I told you—”
“You don’t deserve kisses or sex. Yeah, I remember. But the better question isn’t whether you think you deserve it. It’s whether you want it.”
“Of course I do,” she refutes. Her defenses rise abruptly. “Of course I want to fucking kiss you, Zoey. I’ve fucking imagined it ten million times since you’ve been back, but it’s not good timing. You’re leaving soon, and I promised myself that I wouldn’t.”
I’m leaving soon.
That reality still haunts me.
“Have you…” I start to ask, wondering if I should let the question die, but I press onward. “Have you kissed anyone in the past six years?”
She backs up a little. “Yes.”
Okay. Don’t let that hurt. Fuck, it hurts. “What about since you’ve been cursed?”
I expect a no, and she says, “Yes.”
“What?” I squeak out. “But you won’t…with me?” Pain. Pain is choking me out, and I inhale without exhaling.
“It meant nothing.” Her eyes suddenly well. “They were just flings.”
“Anyone…I know?” I hate how choked I sound.
“No.” She shakes her head stiffly. “Most were out of towners…I was trying to feel something, and I couldn’t.” A tear slips out of her eye. She lets it fall. “I couldn’t feel anything for the longest time. I was numb, and then here you are.”
Here I am.
“And…?”
“And you make me come alive…you make me come alive in ways I do not deserve. And you’re leaving.” We’re both trying our best to breathe. “I can’t lose you again, Zoey.”
“It doesn’t have to be soon,” I mutter, but I remember the museum today. Parry and I are making progress with the search. As soon as I find evidence of Augustine Anders, I should leave.
“It needs to be soon.” She nods to herself. “The longer you stay here, the harder it’s going to be to keep up your lie. That’s what I need to tell you.” She intakes a big breath and explains, “My aunt has continued to put her nose where it doesn’t belong.”
We fall into the distraction from heavier topics, and I hear all about the book event her aunt is throwing. Just to interrogate me.
“Okay…okay, so I don’t go.” I outstretch my arms. “Easy.”
She shakes her head. “No, you have to go.”
“Why?”
“Because my aunt wants me to convince you to come. At all costs. She even suggested…canoodling.”
I snort. “Canoodling?” I laugh harder. “Wait, is she suggesting you fuck me to get me to go?”
“I don’t know…maybe.” October rubs her temple in distress. “It’s not happening.”
“You’re not going to fuck me and manipulate me into attending a book signing for a fake book that I haven’t written a sentence for?” I mockingly gasp. “What kind of evil monster are you? So unwilling to seduce me?”
“Sarcasm noted,” she says pointedly. I swear she smiled a little bit.
“I’m glad. Though I am kind of bummed we can’t canoodle anymore.” I tilt my head while she gives me a look to shut up. “Is canoodling off the table?”
“The more you say the word canoodling, the more I’m ready to walk out the door.”
“Wait, no,” I call out. “Don’t go without a canoodle.”
She laughs at that.
“The ghost laughs.” I’ve said those words before, but I love reminding her she’s capable of such a thing.
October touches her lips like it’s foreign to her. Her smile falters for a second before flatlining completely.
“I wish you could see yourself how I see you,” I whisper to her.
Her eyes flit to mine. Tenderness flowing between us for a second.
I say, “Whole. Unbroken.”
She blinks repeatedly like she’s holding back tears. Then in a quick second, her armor reappears. Her shoulders lock. Her face goes cold. “We should change for bed.” She grabs her pajamas and heads for the small bathroom.
My emotions bottle up. I want to help with whatever’s going on with her, but I don’t know how. We change separately, and when she returns to the bedroom in her cute pink silk pajama set, she beelines straight for her makeshift bed on the floor. My spirits deflate, and all hope for any canoodling being more than a joke vanishes completely.
Just as I’m about to shut off the lamplight, October speaks.
“See you in the morning, sweets.”
Her voice is as silky as her PJs, and I fight off my ridiculous smile as I pull the cord to the lamp, shutting us into darkness.
