“That’s the one. He surfaced, and there has been some trouble.”
“Trouble? You okay?” My heart speeds up again at the thought of anything happening to him.
“Yeah. Everything’s fine.” I hear voices talking in the background, and I wish he’d tell me more.
How long can you wait for someone to let you in?
“That’s awesome,” I say, meaning it. “So glad you got your friend back.”
“We’re cousins, in fact,” he says—one of those crumbs of info he bestows on me occasionally and that I cherish long after, because they are so rare. “But we’re more like brothers.”
And I’m glad he has some family to call his own—someone closer to him than his distant parents.
God, I shouldn’t fall into this trap again. Shouldn’t worry about him.
“Wanna meet tonight?” he asks, and my mouth is already forming the Yes I want to give him.
I force myself to stop. “Can’t. I’m going out.”
“With your nerdy roommate?”
“Nah. A classmate.”
“A girl?”
“A guy.”
“What the hell?” I flinch at the anger in his voice. It’s hot and sharp and intense, like him. “You sleeping with him?”
“No. I’m not.” I draw a breath, and blurt, “not yet.”
The silence that follows is rolled in broken glass. Suddenly I’m sorry. So sorry for what I said—and it’s not even true, because I don’t want to sleep with Norman, or anyone else but Hawk.
Isn’t it insane?
“Why?” he asks, his voice like gravel.
I wince. “You keep vanishing. You don’t tell me anything. We’re not really together, Hawk.”
Another silence.
“I thought we had an agreement,” he finally says. “From the beginning, it was all on the table. I haven’t changed the rules.”
No, he hasn’t. “Hawk…”
“Fuck, no. Not letting this happen. I’m coming to pick you up,” he says. “I’ll be there in two minutes. Be ready.”
***
He’s already parked outside my building when I come out, in my coat, clutching my purse. I honestly don’t know why I’m not fighting this.
Honestly don’t know if I ever could. From the very first moment, he caught me. Neither of us admit it, but I’m his.
Maybe I should move to Alaska. Or Europe. Or Mongolia. Far enough the sound of his voice can’t reach me and lure me back to him. Fighting against the pull is like trying to swim upstream, to run upslope.
Not sure I’m strong enough.
Not sure what I’m feeling, what to call the emotions he brings out in me, this worry, this need, his warmth, this sadness.