“What do you think Cowan’s using that check for?” I look up at Baptist and he’s staring back at me, teeth tight together, jaw working. “Do you really want this bad enough?”
He says nothing. I don’t expect him to. I’m not sure if I have an answer to that question either. I want a movie with Tony Cowan—but do I want it this much?
Baptist sinks down onto the bench beside me and leans his head back with a sigh. We sit in silence for a minute. His knee touches mine, and I listen to the sound of him breathing, in and out. It helps center me, bring me back from my panic.
He’s a calming presence, like an ancient waterfall or a godlike statue.
“What do we do?” I ask him quietly, but I know the answer already, or at least I think I do.
Instead, he surprises me. “We can’t pretend like that night didn’t happen. We keep on making deals and running from it, but we’re not going to be able to work together if we can’t face it.”
I turn toward him, chewing on my hair. “It’s easier this way, isn’t it?”
“The first time, maybe. Not twice.”
“We promised.”
“I’m not going back on that. I don’t plan on kissing you. I don’t plan on dragging you into a dark corner and holding your hips as I brush my lips along your throat, even if there’s a part of me that wants to do it. But I’m not going to act like last night didn’t happen. You can deal with that or not.”
I blow out my hair and stare at the floor. What’s the right thing to do? Is there a right thing, or am I just so out of my depth that I’m drowning?
If I were responsible and not missing some intrinsic part of my brain that makes me do the right thing, I’d tell him about the baby.
I’d make him understand that it’s not just about our work relationship.
It’s about the future now.
Instead, I only nod.
“Last night happened, okay? It happened.”
“Good. That’s all I wanted, Webb.”
“I still don’t want to talk about it.”
“We don’t have to.” He smiles slightly and gives me a sly, sideways smile. “Although we can. I’d be happy to give you a description of everything we did, nice and slow.”
“Don’t make me regret this.” I rub my temples, warding off a headache. “I understand that us sleeping together—”
“Fucking, Webb. Raw, wet, delicious fucking.”
“Whatever. I understand that it’s complicated, but this crap with Cowan is on a whole different level. What are we going to do aboutthat?” I nod toward the room where Rodrick’s probably getting high again under the supervision of our director.
“I’m not sure yet. If Cowan’s convinced Rodrick’s the guy then we might be fucked. But no matter what happens, I’m not going to let Cowan abandon Rodrick when this is all over.”
“Really?”
“Don’t be shocked, it’s almost insulting.” He stands up and walks to the elevators. “If Cowan actually pays Rodrick then the poor asshole’s probably going to be dead in a week if nobody keeps an eye out for him. When this is over, we’ll drive him to a rehab clinic ourselves and lock him in if that’s what it takes. They can drown him in methadone until he dries out.”
“You’re serious.”
“I’m very serious. You might think I’m being a little too cavalier about drug use right now, but I promise, I have experience with this sort of thing. There’s nothing we can do for Rodrick right now except keep him alive and safe and make sure he doesn’t overdose.”
I give him a strange look as I join him at elevators. How does he know about this stuff?Whodoes he know that was addicted to heroin? The elevator dings and the doors slide open, and we step on together. I lean against the mirrored wall and glance at him as he looks up at the ceiling.
“What kind of experience do you have?” I ask in a small voice.
He shakes his head. “I’ll tell you about it some other time.”