“We’ve not yet heard from the police or Gavin on how the building sweep went down or how badly the ones Diesel and I took down were hurt.”
“You’re right, thank you. We’ll know more before long, I’m sure. Are we really staying here?”
“Well, I was contemplating another room, if that would make you feel better. We gave the fake cabbie this address, but he’s in custody.”
She immediately shook her head. “Oh no, I’m fine with all of us bunking in here, if you guys don’t mind an extra houseguest.”
“We’re fine with it,” he said and gently squeezed her shoulder. “You did really well in there today.”
She looked up at him, and, in spite of herself, the tears came to her eyes again.
“Come here,” he said and pulled her into his arms again.
“I was so scared,” she said, “and, when they told me that they were after you, I just couldn’t believe it.”
He kissed her gently on the temple. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s behind all this because I haven’t heard directly from any of them,” he said. “But I will get to the bottom of it.”
“I know you will,” she said, and, with a sigh, she stepped back a bit, rotated her shoulders, and added, “That cabbie just pissed me off.”
He snorted, remembering how tickled Diesel had gotten when they’d talked about it. “You think?” he said. “Not the smartest move.”
“No, that was on him,” she said, “trying to drive, while holding the gun on me. He’d have been better off if he’d gotten me to drive instead.”
“That’s very true,” he said. “Which makes me think he wasn’t used to doing something like this.”
“Maybe I should feel happy about that,” she said, “but I don’t.” He just smiled, and she glared at him. “Do you find this funny?”
“There is nothing funny about this at all,” he said, with emphasis. “So, no, I don’t find it funny.”
“I know,” she said. “Sorry. I’m just out of sorts.”
“You’re allowed to be,” he murmured. “Nobody expects you to be perfect or to handle everything gracefully all the time.”
She nodded, pulling her wet hair into a ponytail high on the top of her head and said, “But you know? We get used to being on all the time. Used to handling everything and being perfect because it’s required.”
“None of that is ever required when you’re with me.”
“That’s the thing about you,” she said, with a bright smile. “I can just be me.”
“I hope so,” he said. “Don’t ever think that’s not enough.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she said, and then, with a cheeky grin, she added, “So did you order any food?”
“Diesel’s gone to pick it up.”
“Oh, gosh, but he’s tired too,” she said, feeling terrible for making a fuss about room service.
“A pizza joint’s right across the street,” he said. “It’s not like he’s running a marathon.”
She relaxed at that. “Oh, good, I felt guilty about turning my nose up at room service,” she said. “I really like him. He seems like a nice guy.”
“He is.” He looked at her. “And speaking of nice guys, what happened to that last boyfriend of yours?”
“Ugh. He got too possessive,” she said. “We broke up months ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said. “I’ll find the right guy one of these days.”
“Or maybe you could just stop trying so hard and see who shows up.”
“Well, I’ve tried that too,” she said, “and nobody turned up.” He burst out laughing, and she grinned at him. “Besides, you were out of town.”
“Were you waiting for me?” he asked, shaking his head with a bright smile.
“Maybe,” she said. “Did you ever think about what our life would be like if we were together?”
“No,” he said, his tone joking, “I never did.”
“See? Now I don’t know,” she said, “but I feel like that’s just an insult.”
He snorted at that and said, “We talked about it briefly once. I’ve known you for a very long time, and anything you’ve wanted in your life, you’ve gone after. Never, at any point in time, have you showed me that you were even remotely interested.”
“That’s not true,” she protested. The she added, with good humor, “You know how much I love you.”
“Loving me and being in love with me,” he said, “are two different things.
“Sometimes I wonder though,” she said. “I think we get so hung up on perfection—the perfect match for the perfect future—that we tend to forget a whole lot better things are out there than perfect.”
He stopped her, and, looking puzzled, he asked, “Like what?”
She gave him a slow smile. “Like things that naturally fall into place with a sense of rightness.”
“Doesn’t that make it perfect?”
She shrugged. “But it seems like it’s contrived otherwise. When we’re always out there, looking for something better, we forget to see what’s nearby because we’re so hung up on the seeking. The pursuit for something outside that might be a better match, or I don’t know,” she said, shrugging. “Sorry. I’m not making any sense with my rambling. I didn’t realize how tired I am.”
“You’re exhausted,” he said, “but that doesn’t mean you’re not making sense.”
She rolled her eyes at him and looked at the beds. “Do you care which bed I crash on?” He shook his head. She set her overnight bag on the bed closest to the bathroom and threw herself up against the headboard, piling all the pillows up, so she could curl up under a blanket.
“Don’t you want to sleep?”
“Sure,” she said, “but my stomach’s growling, and I’m afraid that, every time I close my eyes, I’ll see Mary. I still don’t know what they were hoping she would get out of me.”
“Probably information on me,” he said.
“Maybe, but it’s not like you ever tell me what you’re doing,” she said, “so I didn’t know anything of value anyway.”
“Maybe,” he murmured. “Have we been that distant?”
“Nope, but I was never one to sit there and bug you as to where you were at any given moment in time, so why would it be any different when I haven’t seen you for months?”
“Maybe they thought we were closer.”
“That’s because we text all the time,” she said. “And that’s great for staying in touch, but it doesn’t really give you the nitty-gritty details of what’s going on in somebody’s life.” She yawned. “I didn’t have anything to tell her anyway. So it doesn’t make a whole lot of difference,” she added, exhaling a big breath, stretching out on the bed. “Did you say pizza was coming?”