“And the romance is gone,” Creed says. “This is what I get for giving a shit about stuff like this. It’s all swoony and pretty and then it devolves into clubbing baby seals.”
“It’s still swoony and pretty,” Anna tells him.
“… and they have their seal skin boots, and they should be clubbed themselves…”
“Well, kind of,” she says.
“Tyson,” Otter says.
“What? Those poor defenseless animals who want nothing more than to enjoy a nice swim and a bit of fish!”
“Focus.”
Oh. Right. Dom’s here. I turn back to him. He’s still in the doorway. He’s amused by me, as he always seems to be. My heart skips a couple of beats in my chest. It’s not the same, seeing him on the computer. Hearing his voice on the phone. It’s not the same as having him here. Within reach. If only I could get my legs to work.
“I’m making plans,” I tell him, as if he should know what I’m speaking of.
And yet, somehow, I think he does. “I thought you might.”
“Did you? I just started making them, I think. Maybe just right this second.”
“Good plans?”
“I think so.”
“What are they talking about?” Creed whispers from behind me.
“The language of love,” Sandy sighs.
“Gross,” Bear says. “Sort of.”
I think hard. “But we’ve been doing that this whole time, haven’t we?”
Dom nods. “Yeah.”
“You just waited for me to figure it out myself.”
“I knew you’d get there eventually.”
“How?”
“Because you’re you,” he says. “I just had to wait.”
“I’m sorry,” I say thickly. “That I made you wait again.”
“It doesn’t matter, Ty.”
“This is starting to feel uncomfortably intrusive,” Creed says. “I was just here for the surprise, but now it seems like things are about to get freaky.”
“Time to go,” Anna says.
“Why?” Bear demands. “What do you mean freaky?”
“We’re going to let them go,” Otter says. “To be alone.”
“Alone? Freaky? Wait. Wait. Does that mean they’re going to…. Otter, don’t you touch that computer! Tyson! You better be wearing condoms, you hear me? Wear two of them! It’s safer! It’s—”
By the grace of God, he’s cut off as the call is disconnected.