Not close enough.
I crawl onto his lap, straddling him, holding him, igniting parts of us both that we'd forgotten about in our self-imposed miseries. I don't know how long we make out like teenagers in this rat infested hovel, but I love every millisecond, every sensation of it. I just wish we didn't have all these clothes on. I want to run my fingers through his soft, wild hair. Burrow my fingers into the flesh of his back as he does the same to me. Why the hell have we waited so long? This is fucking amazing. I'm about to supernova. No more wasting time. I've never felt this much…intensity. Longing. Passion. Even with Harry. Or that night with Justin by The Falls. Didn't hold a goddamn candle to this.
Eventually we have to break apart to breathe, both of us panting as if we'd rounded home base. This close I can actually see those blue eyes as he gazes up at me with that same amazed, frightened, and loving expression he had on the hospital rooftop. This time it doesn't scare me. I won't let it. I run my finger across his swollen lower lip. Mine pulses in time to another area south of the border. Our smiles move in unison before he leans forward to kiss me again.
"Ahem."
Oh, shit. I practically leap a foot in the air off him. When I land beside him, I find Tempest smirking in the doorway smirking. Thank God it's only him but still. I'm mortified. "Um…"
"Hey, don't stop on my account," Tempest says.
"We were just--" Nightingale says.
"Killing time on a stakeout? Yeah, Lex and I sometimes kill time the same way."
"You do?" Nightingale asks, shocked by this unprofessional revelation.
Tempest scoffs at the hypocrisy. His gaze moves from us to the camera and laptop on the ground. "So, I got your messages. Sorry it took so long to get here. Looks like you've got things well in hand here though. If you want I can leave or--"
"No," Nightingale says forcefully as he jumps up. "We-We still have a lot to do. We need to place the bugs, there's another warehouse to surveil, there are other leads to follow up." He glances at me. "Alone."
"What?" I ask.
"We can manage from here. Go home. Now. Please. It'll be fine now."
Fuck a duck. His barriers shut like a steel trap again. I recognize the posture and expression. I did the same thing to Harry and just about every other person who tried to get close to me. Most gave up, save Justin. I'm still amazed he ever put up with me. I'm fuming at my dismissal, and I really want to dig my heels in, but know it won't do any good. Not with Tempest here. The interloper knows this too as he shoots me a sympathetic smile. Shit. I swallow my emotions and plaster on a poker face.
"Um, fine. I'll let the big, strong men handle it from here. I need to go to my office anyway. Nightingale can get you up to speed."
"I'll swing by later tonight if I have any questions or anything else develops," Tempest says, really meaning he'll come by to check on me and make excuses for his friend.
"Whatever. Have fun with the rats. Call if you want me."
As I move, Nightingale takes a tiny step away in case I accidently brush against him. This should sting, but instead I feel a sense of triumph. He's afraid to touch me. Afraid of what he might do. As I walk out of the room, the corners of my mouth move up into a smirk.
Most people never understood me and Justin. Why two people from such different backgrounds and temperaments could be such good friends. What they never understood was we were basically the same person. Kindred spirits. Soul mates. And like him, I am as stubborn as a mule when something really matters to me. He didn't give up on me until the day he died. Hell, it's why he died. So as long as there's a glimmer of hope, even a half chance in hell, I'm not quitting on Jem. He needs me, especially now. No matter how many times that man pushes me away, I'll keep going back. Because he's worth it. Even in death my best friend is looking out for me. Giving me strength.
And if Jem's half as much trouble as I was, I am gonna need it.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Cuckoo's Nest
Mansion, sweet mansion. Cleaning things up at the office took longer than I anticipated, so all the happy feelings from earlier were sucked from me by international phone calls and paperwork. Tracking terrorists might be more dangerous but it sure beats mergers and acquisitions. I'm usually praying for someone to shoot at me after the second dull as hell hour.
I'm fucking starving. Right on cue, as I pull off my jacket, Dobbs hobbles out from the kitchen sans food though. "I was getting worried," Dobbs says as he takes my coat.
"Sorry, impromptu conference call. Is dinner ready?"
His eyes narrow from confusion. "I thought you and Dr. Ambrose were dining out tonight."