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“Marshmallow?” The voice stops me in my tracks.
I spin around and my heart almost stops beating at the sight of his familiar face. It’s dangerous and reckless, but instinct makes me run to him. I throw my arms around his neck. “Doc?”
He wraps his arms around me, and I bury my face against his shoulder, stifling a sob at the memories that are invoked by seeing him after all these years. He guides me to a nearby doorway, out of view from the street.
A sudden wave of panic makes my knees buckle. “What are you doing here? Ishehere?”
“Relax, Marshmallow. He’s back in Vegas. I’m here with Nico. Just making sure things go smoothly. It’s so good to see you. You look great.” He tousles my curls. “I like your hair like this. It’s just like your mom’s.”
My cheeks heat. “It’s good to see you too.”
He steps out and glances at the street, then back at me. “I should really get moving. This is too dangerous. I’m sorry, but I saw you and…” His eyes turn glossy with unshed tears.
“I’m glad I saw you.” I pull him in for one last hug. “Take good care of Nico, won’t you?”
“Always, Marshmallow. You take good care of yourself. Remember that right hook I taught you?”
“Sure do.”
He swallows like he wants to say more but can’t. “Bye, kid.”
“Bye.” I watch him walk out of the shadows and back onto the street, taking a piece of my heart with him. But staying apart is the only way we all get to stay alive.
ChapterThirty-Seven
XANDER
Lily’s in the den putting the finishing touches on her article, and I sneak up behind her, trying to catch a glimpse of what she’s writing. When she’s not with one of us or at work, she has her head bent over her laptop, but she refuses to give us a single clue as to what it’s about.
When I get close enough to see her screen, all I see are pictures of puppies. I jump over the back of the sofa and land next to her with a thud. Shrieking, she slams her laptop shut and hugs it to her chest.
“Xander! Please stop doing that to me,” she gasps, but her eyes are full of amusement.
I laugh and give her a kiss on the cheek. “I thought you were working, not looking at pictures of cute puppies. Or is that what your article is about? Cutest puppies of New York?”
Rolling her eyes, she reopens her laptop and unlocks it with her fingerprint. “Not exactly.” She shows me a picture of Rottweiler puppies snuggled up in a pile.
I tilt my head. “Aw. They are cute.”
She nods, a huge smile on her face. “You like dogs.”
“Who doesn’t?” I wrap my arm around her shoulder as she scrolls through more images.
“Some people don’t,” she says in a sad tone, but before I can pick that apart, she goes on. “I always wanted a Rottweiler puppy.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, I’d call him Snowflake.”
I bark out a laugh. “Snowflake? A huge black Rottweiler named Snowflake?”
“Yeah.” She giggles. “I like the irony.”
“I’ve always wanted a dog too, but West and Zeke won’t let me get one.” That isn’t entirely true. If I insisted, they’d jump on board, but their objections always manage to talk me out of it. Apparently puppies are a big responsibility.
“They’re so mean.”
I kiss her sweet-smelling neck. “But if you were to ask for a puppy…” I trail my kisses lower.
