“We should get out of here,” he said, gesturing toward the door.
“We can’t yet. There’s too much going on outside. We have to wait until some of the traffic clears out. So since we have some time to kill”—I paused, grimacing at my word choice—“I have some things I have to tell you before we go back. So much has happened in the last twenty-four hours.”
“You came back to get me that fast?”
“Trust me, it didn’t feel fast. I don’t know whether to start with the bad news or the bad news,” I sighed. “Okay, first. You were right about Jonathan Landers being the murderer.”
“I knew it.”
“That’s not the worst part. He’s been living in my loft since the day I met you. Yours, too.”
Michael’s face registered confusion. “I don’t understand.”
“No one else does either. Somehow he managed to travel and he’s been frequenting the bridge that spans our rooms. I thought he was a rip. I tried to touch him to make him go away and ended up with a handful of glow-in-the-dark goo.”
His upper lip curled. “Why didn’t I see him?”
“I guess because he didn’t want you to. He must have manipulated the bridge and used it to hide.”
Michael jerked his head in the direction of the window, where Jack could clearly be seen directing a fire truck across the lawn.
“Why didn’t you tell me about him?”
My body went hot with shame. That was a tougher question to answer.
How could I tell Michael that I’d wanted to keep Jack to myself, along with his flattery and attention? I’d thought of him as some kind of guardian angel, and he was nothing of the sort. He was a killer, and he’d been in my home. He’d watched me sleep. I’d been stupid enough to listen when he claimed he wanted to protect me.
“I didn’t think it was a big deal at first. And then—then it started feeling like a lie. Like something I should keep secret. I should’ve known then that it was wrong.”
His expression turned pensive. “We both have regrets about things we didn’t tell each other.”
“In your room, after we kissed …” I trailed off. “You said you wanted to kiss me again. But you knew you weren’t going to come back. Was it just a kiss good-bye?”
“What kind of kiss do you think it was?”
I knew I’d probably be angry later for letting him off the hook so quickly, but my sorrow turned into some kind of giddy relief that started in my toes and jumped directly to my mouth. Uncontrollable and impulsive.
“I hope it was a kiss good-bye. If so, I think a kiss hello is in order.” I fiddled with the knot in my scarf, tightening it, then loosening it. “I mean, I did bring you back from the dead. Basically.”
Michael stared at me for a moment before stepping forward to take my face in his hands. The buzz from his touch almost knocked me off my feet.
“It was a kiss good-bye. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, and I didn’t want to die without knowing what kissing you felt like.” He groaned. “It all sounds so dramatic.”
“It was.” I remembered the rending of my heart when I thought I’d lost him. “It was terrible.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’ve not forgiven you.” I could feel my legs shaking, hear the tears in my voice. “I don’t know how long it’s going to take me to forgive you, or if I ever will, but I’m so happy that you’re here right now.”
“Emerson—”
“I don’t know what any of this means, but I know that when I thought you were gone, I couldn’t breathe. It felt like half of me was missing.” I kept babbling, my edit button not only broken, but completely obliterated. “I’m seventeen. Who feels like this at seventeen?”
“Em—”
“And as far as Ava is concerned, or Kaleb, I don’t want anyone in the space between us. I—”
“Emerson!” His voice carried urgency.