“That feels good.” His lips curve.
I kiss his jaw, and then his collarbone through his shirt.
“I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there for you,” I whisper. “With your father,” I add in a voice that quavers.
I can feel him swallow. “Don’t be sorry. It was my fault.”
“I just want to find a time machine and hold you.”
He’s carefully still as I trace my fingertips over his sculpted arms, along the lines of his chest. When he starts to pant again, I press my palm back under his throat.
“Who takes care of you? Does Isa?”
“Isa’s like a sister.”
“But you said she’s gone a lot.”
He smiles, strained. “I’m not like this when you’re not around,” he whispers.
“Is this a Sampson and Delilah situation?”
“No.” He runs a hand over my shoulder, looking heavy-lidded. “This feels good.”
I shift my focus to his hair, running my fingers through his dark locks, stroking his forehead as I do. He groans softly. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I want you to feel good tonight.”
He covers his face with one of his hands. I curl up against his chest and hug him. I don’t move for a long time, while he breathes in gusts and tears fall into my hair.
“Sorry,” he says thickly.
“Don’t be sorry.” I kiss his wet eyes. “Spend this night with me. Let’s make each other feel good. Then go home and get a dog.”
His hand cups my cheek. “What about you?”
“I work all the time.” I smile. “My dog would be lonely. I’ll get a fish.”
He hugs me.
“Thank you for protecting me. For watching out for me and all that.” I kiss his jaw. “I love you too,” I whisper. “It’s our secret from the world, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t know.”
He holds me all night. We talk of so many things, in whispers, between kisses. When the sun rises, he takes me one more time.* * *LucaI can barely walk her back to her place. My legs feel weak. My stomach feels like I’m on a boat. When we get inside her cabin, she wraps her arms around me and kisses my cheek.
I kiss the tiny salamander tattoo on her arm and touch the lemonade one on her ankle with the tip of my boot. I smooth her hair off her forehead and kiss her brow and eyes and cheeks and lips and chin.
“Be careful,” I rasp. “Don’t be scared. I’ll be watching out for you. But still, be careful.”
“Anything more you want to tell me?”
I shake my head. “Just that Aren doesn’t like you. I’ll be watching, though. I’m gonna keep you safe. I really don’t think you should run in the park, though, especially before daybreak.”
“Is there something specific?”
She means a threat. I shake my head.
“Do you like running near me?” she asks.
“Yes,” I confess.
“So let’s keep doing it together. It’s really not that risky. Don’t tell me where you are. Maybe sometimes, once a month, you can run by me. Like, beside me. Only for a minute. We could do the same thing that you did the one time,” she says softly.
I shut my eyes, picturing Elise pinned against a tree. “I don’t know if I could stop there. Out in public isn’t safe enough now.”
“Safety is a false paradigm.” She touches my mouth, smiling sadly. “I can see you gearing up to argue. But just don’t, Luca. Just this one time, don’t tell me how you’ll ruin me. You’ve played the cards you were dealt as well as you could.”
“I graduated from Columbia.” As soon as I say it, I can feel my face and neck warm.
“Are you serious?”
I look down as I nod.
She hugs me hard, pulls away grinning. “Oh my God, when, Luca?”
“Class of 2010.”
“What was your focus?”
“Philosophy.” I laugh, slightly embarrassed.
“Really?”
I nod.
“That makes me so happy. Did they pay?”
I nod again, and her grin is huge. I wait for her to ask me if I’ll ever go legit, but she doesn’t. She strokes my lightly bearded cheek and wraps her hand around my nape and kisses my throat and whispers, “Avoid purebreds…if you can. They don’t live as long. You know?”
I nod.
“Crying means you have a big heart. So you have to take care of it, okay? For me.”
I look down at my feet so that won’t happen again.
“Don’t do reckless stuff. Don’t be stupid. Please try not to do illegal things.” She laughs. “That makes things really hard for me.”
“That’s why last night was selfish…on my part,” I whisper.
“It was something we both needed.”
“Did you need it?” I can’t help running my hand down her arm, taking her hand in mine. “Do you feel better? Or neutral—and not worse?”
“I really do.” She kisses my lips softly. “Don’t fret. I feel good.”
I grin. “I don’t fret.”
“Oh no? What do you do?”
“Man worry.”
“Don’t man worry on my behalf.”