I nodded slowly. “I doubt Winter would have killed you. Probably just had Clary knock you out or something.” Scott sauntered on over to my desk and made his way around the edge. “You know, because he was looking to turn me into a killer, not just murder people for the sake of it.” I paused, frowning. “Well, except for Bjorn.”
Scott gingerly lowered himself down onto the desk in front of me, sitting at an angle, legs hanging over the edge. It was a more natural way to talk, I supposed, than doing so from across the office. “Do you remember that road trip we took?”
“Kinda hard to forget it, since it ended in the aforementioned episode of us running through the woods and almost getting killed by Century mercenaries.” I frowned in concentration as a thought occurred to me. “Where do they find this endless supply of gun thugs?”
“I was a pretty bad influence on you that trip.” He ignored my wry observation and gave me a twisted smile. “How much did you end up drinking?”
“A lot,” I admitted. “Enough to nearly land me in bed with that—actual, real—asshole Fries.”
“I could kind of understand that,” he said. “You and Zack had broken up,” I felt a twinge at the mention of Zack’s name, “you were ... tired of not being able to ...” he shrugged, “... do what ... couples do.”
“You know what really pushed it over the edge?” I asked, leaning back in my chair. “It was watching you and Kat all the time. It was like I got my first look at what a happy couple should be, outside of the television, and I wanted my life to look like that. I wanted to be able to sleep with my boyfriend without killing him.” I laughed, kind of rueful. “Stupid, huh?”
“I don’t think it’s stupid at all,” he said and shifted on the desk. “I think it’s pretty natural.”
“Yeah, well, it didn’t end so well.”
“What, like that was your fault?”
I sighed. “My skin killed him. My touch killed him. So, yeah, if you want to look at it at a literal level, yes, it was my fault. If you want to zoom out to the metaphorical level, if he hadn’t been my boyfriend, Winter wouldn’t have used him as leverage against me, so he’d still be alive.” I waved my hand at him. “I’ve made my peace with it long ago, but yes, I still think it’s my fault.”
“Hum.” He looked down, cupping his hands together. “Zack was one of my best friends, you know.”
“He thought of you the same way,” I said gently.
“I didn’t hear about you two breaking up right away,” he said. “Not on that trip.”
“Well, no,” I said, “because you were wasted.”
“Right,” he said and I caught the chagrin. “But when I did hear, it was the weirdest thing. Because Kat told me, and the first thing that came to mind—and I feel like such an ass for saying this—was that I was glad.”
“What?” Part of me wanted to ask him to clarify. Another part very much didn’t.
“I know, it’s terrible.” His jaw clenched between words, and I could see it stand out on his tanned face. “But I was, I was glad. And, uh ... it kind of took me a while to narrow down why, so I just sort of ignored it.” He glanced at me. “But, uh, after you came back here, and we started working together, I figured it out.”
Oh, God.
He must have seen it on my face, the look like the train was barreling toward me, and there I was standing on the tracks like I was paralyzed or something. “It kind of does make me an asshole, doesn’t it?” He looked away. “Like, really for real, subtext of your comments aside. But, uh ... seeing you work. How you work. How serious you are about it, how committed you are. I mean, you’re the real deal. You’ve thrown yourself into certain death over and over—”
“I don’t ... I mean, I wouldn’t say I’ve ever thrown myself into certain death—” I stammered, trying to interrupt him.
“You’re just so brave,” he said. “You’re the most gutsy, fearless person I’ve ever met. You take the hits and keep bouncing back. You’re like this epic badass everyone keeps underestimating until she completely wrecks them, and it’s so awesome to watch.” He was focused on me now. “I respect the hell out of you, I watch in constant amazement, and, uh ... even a meathead like me can finally get the message sooner or later.” He leaned in closer, and I was trapped. My chair could have tilted back a little farther, but I didn’t lean it back.