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I want her to think about me constantly. Every minute. Every breath.
I’m wondering how her hair would feel if I ran my fingers through it and worked out all the knots when she says, “Jameson.”
“Are you scolding me?”
“I asked you a question.”
Her hair. Her mouth. Her eyes. “And the question was…?”
“What did you mean when you said I’m here tomake things fair?” She lifts her bound wrists and does air quotes in front of her chest, her fingers curling toward each other.
“I’ve had it, you know? I’ve been waiting a long time for somebody else to step in, and I've reached the end of my patience.”
“Somebody to step in aboutwhat?” Lily blinks, and for a moment genuine curiosity lifts her eyebrows and makes her eyes large. Then she remembers I kidnapped her and makes her expression neutral.
“It’s not crucial that you know why you’re here. It’s a matter of making things even. To be honest, I’m not interested in giving a history lesson tonight. I’m not interested in much more talking.”
Lily presses her lips tight together, her chin wobbling for a fraction of a second, and then she’s serious again. “I’m so, so serious. Can you get it over with?”
“Is this about your weird fixation with murder? I already told you—”
“No. I mean—however you’re going to get back at me, just do it. Don’t make me stand here waiting. It’s terrible.” She rises on the balls of her feet and bounces a couple times before she lets her heels sink back to the rug. “If you don’t need ahistory lesson—” More air quotes. “—fine. But you could tell me what I’m supposed to be compensating you for.”
“I could. But I’m not going to.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve been clear. You’re here to settle a score, not for contract negotiations.”
She huffs, straightening her back. “Technically, thereareno contract negotiations. I’d have to refuse any agreement with you. It would be coercion.”
“Nah. It would be coercion if I saidif you ever want to get out of here alive, then you’ll have to agree to do what I say.Do you feel coerced yet?”
“Yeah.” She lifts her wrists again as if to saysee? I’m here against my will.
I shrug at her. “If you hate the rug so much, go sit in the window seat.”
Lily’s brow furrows. She watches me for a long time, like I might break and tell her this is, in fact, a hilarious prank.
I don’t.
The couch feels good. Sitting down feels good. It won’t feel good forever. I always have too much energy, too many ideas for people to fuck over in the name of justice, and too many memories to keep out of my head.
And she looksgood. Pink nipples. A sweet curve at her hips. These jeans are old enough that my cock probablycouldbreak the zipper. I’d imagine that would be more startling than funny at a time like this.
“The window seat is behind you.”
Lily bites her lip, her teeth digging in for half a second. “I know where it is.”
“Go. Sit. On. It.”
She gives me a full view of her ass on her way.
My hand goes to my chest before I can stop it. HolyChrist. I want to bend her over the window seat and fuck her, which is an escalation. I didn’t have designs on fucking her when I decided not to burn the house down. The plan was more abstract. For a single, seizing heartbeat, I want to go back. Back to Cobble Hill. Back to the street outside her grandfather’s house. Back to last fall, when I first ran into her, and ask her on a date.
I don’t ask people ondates. I’m not Gabriel. I don’t get close to people at parties and smile and make charming jokes about their interests. I’ve fucked plenty of people, and it’s never about that. It’sneverabout getting close. It’s always about escape, or burning off excess energy, or forgetting.
I don’t want to forget her.
