“That’s when it’s right. When it scares the shit outta you.”
She eyed him. “You don’t get scared of anything.”
“Correction. I didn’t.” He squared his jaw. “But then I woke up in your bed, and I realized that this thing between us could work out, and just how much I stood to lose if it didn’t.”
She swallowed. “So you’re scared of me?”
“Hell yeah. You terrify me.”
A strangled laugh escaped her. “I feel the same way about you.”
“Is that a yes?”
She nibbled on her lip, watching him. This moment, no matter what her answer might be, was going to be engrained in his memory for the rest of his life. Her soft blue eyes shone brighter than a summer’s day sky. Her plump, pink lips parted as she breathed, and a fetching pink flushed her cheeks.
And then she smiled, and his heart sped up
“Steven…” She licked her lips, and nodded. Fucking nodded. “Yes. I’ll be your girlfriend.” She launched herself into his arms and kissed him.
And for the first time in months…
He wasn’t lost.
Chapter Fifteen
“This literally makes no sense.” Lauren crossed her arms, staring at the TV with narrowed eyes. “He’s in a box, and it just shows up in London—heck, all over the world, and no one finds it odd that at one moment, there’s a random police box outside their homes, and the next day…it’s gone? And no one reports it?”
Steven laughed. “Would you call the cops if there was a police box down the road from your place?”
“I—” A robotic human thing walked down the roads of London, and no one even screamed. “What even is this? I’d freak out if I saw that thing, that’s for sure!”
Two nights ago, she had lost a bet with Holt, and her price had been agreeing to one full night of a Doctor Who marathon with Steven. They were on their second episode, and it still made absolutely no sense whatsoever. And the aliens were creepy.
Holt and Steven had set her up.
She never stood a chance of winning that bet.
“Can we just tell Holt we watched it?” She leaned in and traced a path down his happy trail, dropping her voice seductively. “I can think of better things to do…”
Steven laughed even harder and caught her hand. “Not a chance.”
“Ugh.” She flopped back against the couch dramatically. “This suuuucks.”
He shook his head. “You’re thinking about it way too much. You’re supposed to get lost in the characters, and sympathize with the sad plight of the Doctor.”
“What’s so wrong with his life?” she asked, gesturing to the screen. “He flies around in a box that’s bigger on the inside, saving planets and lives, with a human companion that loves him. It sounds pretty great to me.”
“He’s the last of his kind. The last Time Lord to ever fly in a TARDIS.” Steven paused, and his smile slipped away. “And even worse, it’s all his fault that he’s the last one. He killed them to save the universe.”
Lauren swallowed hard, eyeing Steven.
His tone was casual, but the way he held his knees was anything but. He flexed his jaw and stared at the screen. Judging from the distant expression in his eyes, he wasn’t even here with her. He was in another time, and another place, when he’d lost all his men, too. And from what little he’d told her, he blamed himself.
She wasn’t sure what happened over there, but she knew one thing.
Those deaths weren’t his fault.
“How did he kill them all?”
Steven shifted. “He blew up his planet to stop the time war. All Daleks and all the people of Gallifray died. And he did it. He pushed the button.”
“Wow.” She rested a hand on his shoulder. “Is that why you sympathize with the Doctor? You’re the last ones left?”
His jaw flexed. “Yes, and we’re both guilty as hell.”
“Steven—”
“Don’t.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You have no idea what happened over there, and I’m not telling you, so drop it.”
She bit her tongue. “Those men you lost. They were friends. Right?”
“Brothers.” He rested his head against the couch, staring up at her. What lurked in those depths—anger, pain, confusion, guilt—twisted her stomach in knots, and made her heart ping in sympathy. “All of them.”
She nodded, running her thumbs across the stubble on his cheeks. “And you loved them.” It wasn’t so much of a question as it was a statement. After all, she already had her answer. A man who grieved so thoroughly for someone else obviously cared.