Blood and Bone(75)

It makes me laugh as he somehow ends up digging a larger hole. “I know what you mean.” I step back, letting him come into my town house.

He closes the door, leaning against it and smelling the air around us. “Wow, what is that? Chicken Parmesan?”

I nod, mystified at his ability to smell things and guess so accurately. I thought only I could do it. “Yeah, she knows it’s my favorite.”

He nods. “I love it. My mom always makes it extra saucy so I can drag my bread through it.”

I nod. “I know. We had this conversation once.”

He smiles, making me lightheaded. “Right, of course we did.” I turn. I don’t want him to see me faint, and I don’t want to gawk, so turning away is the safest option. I grab plates, not sure what to say. At work we talk about work things, and here I don’t want to do that. But I know everything about him. Asking questions about things I know would seem stupid.

“You must be excited the whole Samantha Barnes thing is over.” He goes for the safe option.

“I am. I can’t believe what it turned into—what a nightmare it was.”

“Are you upset they’re pulling the plug tomorrow?”

I shake my head. “No. She needs to be free. That’s the only way.” I don’t want to talk about it anymore, so I don’t say anything further on it.

I dish us both up a heaping serving of chicken Parm over the noodles from the microwave. Mrs. Starling hates that I heat them up in there, but I don’t care. I eat from a box most days. “Do you want to pick wine?” I point at the wine rack in the corner. “It’s all red; I’m a picky wino. I never drink white.”

“It wouldn’t go with chicken Parm anyway. Wow, what a great selection. You must pick up some wine for me next time you’re in an amazing foreign country. You can’t get any of these here.”

It makes me smile, like a moron, but I can’t fight it. I want to buy him wine and make him dinner and see him smile. I want his hands to brush against my cheeks. My stomach aches for it as if my body truly remembers his touches. “I would be happy to. Or you could just come next time, see some of the world. It’s pretty impressive out there. And we can smuggle as much wine as we want, no pesky customs to deal with.”

He glances at me. “I would like that.”

I carry the plates to the table, noticing the way Binx is rubbing against his ankles. My fingers reach up and pinch my arm, but he’s still there, and my cat is still loving him. He grabs a bottle as I grab the opener and glasses. He opens and pours, giving me a longing stare. I am trapped in his green eyes. The gray is almost all gone. The awkwardness is heavy, but I don’t care. It feels like a now-or-never moment. I need to try to tell him how I feel and what I want.

“I like you, Jane.” He beats me to it.

There are a thousand words I want to say, but I don’t. I sit there like a complete douche and stare. It’s like he’s read my mind.

“I have to confess something. It’s weighing a ton on my chest, and I don’t think I’ll ever have the balls to do it if I don’t do it now.” He looks into my eyes. “I saw inside your file, the one with the triggers and memories you fabricated to take with you. When you said something earlier about how you take things with you, I looked in your personal file to see what your triggers were.”

Nope, he read my file. That’s so much worse. My insides tighten. Fuck! He’s seen behind the curtain. He’s seen my creation of Derek, his alter ego who loves me.

He sits, taking the wine he’s poured and handing me a glass and lifting his. “I just wanted you to know, I looked because I was hoping for some insight into asking a girl like you out.”

My cheeks are on fire from imagining him rooting through my bag—not that I have anything in there, but still.

“I crossed a line, and I know that, but I’m not sorry. I like you, a lot.”

I swallow, lifting my glass to join his. “I don’t know what to say.” It dawns on me I am scared of him. He is the only thing I fear. He is the type of monster that scares me. He’s the kind you marry and you love forever. He’s the kind who breaks everything inside you when they die and leave you, so it’s better not to be with one of them. One of those real monsters.

“Say you’ll go out with me and you like me back and that you wish I’d kept my greasy fingers off your personal shit. Say you wished I hadn’t stolen your handbag so I had a reason to come over and that you would like me to leave because I am an asshole for being so manipulative.”

I shake my head, whispering, “You swore.”