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48
TANYA
I watched over him all night, until his color improved and his breathing eased. As dawn broke, he seemed to be sleeping peacefully but he still hadn’t woken. My eyes kept closing and I kept jerking awake with the same sickening lurch of fear: has he stopped breathing? Would he ever wake up and, if he did, would he be okay? I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d slept. I had to lie down or I was going to collapse.
With Colton stretched out on his back, there wasn’t a lot of room left on the bed. But I found a space just big enough for me between him and the wall and cuddled into his side. Warm, dark sleep tugged me down and I was out as soon as I closed my eyes.
I woke from a dream of an earthquake: the ground was shifting and rising under me. I blinked awake: my head was resting on Colton’s pec and he was trying to sit up like a sleepy, grumpy giant. I grabbed his shoulders. Is there brain damage? “Are you okay?” I demanded. “How do you feel?”
He pulled off his oxygen tube and scowled. “Like I fell down in the mosh pit at a thrash metal festival and got danced on for three days.” He rubbed at his cheek, which was now dark with stubble. “I could use some coffee.” His face became hopeful. “And a box of donuts.”
A cry of pure joy bubbled up from inside me. I threw my arms around his neck and crushed myself to him like a child. “Dvah! All the donuts you want!”
It was already nearly noon. I went out to fetch coffee and donuts, wearing Colton’s sweatshirt with the hood up. It was ridiculously big on me but it smelled comfortingly of him. I fed him donuts and took out his IV. Then, around three, I went out again and found a small deli and got us soup and bread, and sticky, flaky pastries topped with white frosting and nuts, together with some fresh clothes. “You need to get your strength back,” I told Colton seriously. “You’ve been through a lot.” Given how fast he was recovering, he must have only absorbed a little of the nerve agent, but I wasn’t taking any chances.
Colton didn’t argue and allowed himself to be nursemaided. When we’d eaten, we sat on the bed with my back against his chest, the solid warmth of him comforting. We talked about all the stuff we’d skipped right past in our weird relationship: what sort of music we liked, places we wanted to go. Colton’s voice grew dreamy as he talked me through his favorite bands, which seemed to lean towards thrashy guitars, long drum solos and face paint. “I’ll take you to a gig,” he promised. “Something light to start out, some heavy rock, maybe ease you into metal.’ He looked me up and down and his voice went growly with lust. “Get you a little denim skirt—black, of course—that comes down to here.” He touched a point a few inches above my knee.
A hot thrill went through me at his touch, but I acted shocked. “There?”
He slid his hand indecently high up my thigh. “Fine, here then.” And I gaped as if even more shocked. “And a bra top,” he continued.
“Won’t I be cold?”
“No,” he said seriously. “‘Cause if you are, I’ll put my arms around you and keep you warm.” And I just melted.
“What about you?” he asked. “What are you gonna introduce me to?”
I had to think about it. I’d spent so long thinking of only my mission, I’d almost forgotten what it was like to do things for fun. “Rachmaninov,” I said at last. “When the cellos come in, in the second symphony. It’s the musical version of an orgasm. You ever listened to classical music?”
He shook his head.
“When all this is over, I will play it for you,” I told him. My words hung in the air, unexpectedly heavy. We’d been avoiding the topic of what do we do now because there was no answer. We had no hard evidence, no way of clearing my name. I glanced towards the window: we’d talked all afternoon and it was getting dark outside. Tomorrow, when Maravic carried out his terrorist attack and the markets crashed, maybe Colton’s team would finally believe us. But by then, it would be too late.
Colton reached down and took my chin in his hand, then tilted my face to look at him. “You know what I need?”
I shook my head glumly.
“A shower. Care to join me?”
A long, hot shower actually sounded fantastic and a shower with him… “Best idea I’ve heard all day,” I said seriously. “But are you sure you’re up to…” I thought of what was likely to happen with both of us naked in the shower, and felt myself flush.
