Текст книги "Behind Your Back"

Автор книги: Chelsea M. Cameron

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

Twenty-Six

The next morning, Saige doesn’t ask me why I needed to stay with her. She just lets me fuck her slowly and then takes a shower with me again.

“You should start keeping some of your stuff here. Although I do enjoy you walking around smelling like me.” She smiles and I devour her mouth.

“Maybe I will,” I say. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I just know that I need to hold onto every moment with her that I have so I can take her with me. I’ve never felt this way about someone and I can’t deny it anymore. I don’t think it’s love, but it’s as close to that as I’ve ever gotten. I don’t know how it happened, but now I’m in the middle, it makes all the sense in the world. Saige is an impossible person not to love. She’s everything I never knew I wanted or needed.

I wish I didn’t have to leave her. I wish I could say “fuck it” and quit my job and forget about everything I’ve done. Talk about wishing you could live someone else’s life.

Saige makes me breakfast and sends me to work with a kiss and a promise that she’ll be waiting for me when I’m done.

Work is hard. I’m unfocused and I have to ask a few of my clients to repeat themselves on the phone. I text Cash on the burner on my lunch break, asking him if he’s okay. He just sends me back a picture of him giving a thumbs up. I’m not going to ask him if he remembers last night. It doesn’t seem right to bring it up.

The rest of the week I spend with Saige or at work or sleeping. And she cuts into both work and sleeping. I’m obsessed. When I’m not with her, I’m thinking about her and when I can see her again.

We don’t spend all our time naked, though. She has a life and I respect her study time. As long as I’m with her, I don’t even care what we’re doing. Even if I’m just watching her study.

She takes me to a student art exhibit and we critique the work and I find myself consumed with laughter from her sharp tongue. She doesn’t pull any punches when it comes to what she deems crappy art, but when she sees something she likes, she gets so animated and excited, and even if I don’t get it, I can feel her passion.

I let myself enjoy her, really enjoy her for the first time. I let my guard down a little and pretend that I’m Quinn and she is my girlfriend Saige.

“Are we ready to talk labels?” she asks me on Saturday night when we’re in bed. I’m exhausted and still trying to get the blood back to my brain after an intense naked session.

“You mean you want to define the relationship?” Her hand stills on my chest where it had been tracing the outline of my anchor tattoo.

“Does this have to do with going to your parents tomorrow?” I ask.

“A little. I just want to know where this is going. I’m not trying to put any pressure on you and if you’re not ready for this step, that’s okay. But I think we have something special and I’d like to take it to the next level.” I don’t know what to say.

“You think about it and get back to me,” she says, dipping her head to kiss the anchor, her hair brushing across my chest and hiding her face from view.

“Yes,” I say and she looks up at me.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I want to define the relationship.” Quinn wants to define the relationship. He gets to be her boyfriend. Not Sylas. But that’s close enough.

She beams at me.

“So you’re saying you want me to be your girlfriend, which means tomorrow when we go to my parents I’m going to introduce you as my boyfriend?” I nod and she kisses me hard while laughing.

“That was so easy,” she says. “You’re a total pushover. I didn’t even have to give you an ultimatum.”

“If I had said no, would you have?”

She shrugs one naked shoulder.

“I knew you wouldn’t, so it doesn’t matter, Quinn Brand, my boyfriend.” We kiss again and that’s enough talking for a while.

The next day I go back to my place on the pretense that the shirt and tie I want to wear aren’t at Saige’s. I’ve brought a lot of my stuff to her place and I feel bad about leaving Leo so alone. If things go well tonight, I might just bring him to come stay with me at Saige’s. I don’t think she’d mind.

The surveillance equipment is hidden here there and everywhere. I’ve got it strapped to my body and it’s a good thing it’s all small and inconspicuous.

I’ve got my plan all laid out. I’ve got contingency plans and contingency plans for contingency plans. I’ve thought of nearly every possibility. Plus, I’ve done this before.

I pick Saige up and this time she’s wearing a dress that’s so low in the back her tattoo is completely visible. It’s still just black ink, but even without the color, it’s beautiful. It looks so natural on her. As if it was always there and Crash just rubbed some skin away to reveal it.

“You’re going to be in so much trouble,” I say as she shows me.

“You think my mom is going to flip?”

“Probably. Are you trying to give her a heart attack?” She just laughs.

“Oh, she’ll get over it once I tell her that you’re officially my boyfriend.” I’m having misgivings about that particular bit of information coming out tonight.

“You’re trouble, Redhead,” I say, pulling her in for a kiss and stroking the bare skin of her back. This dress offers plenty of access to her creamy skin, which is a definite plus.

She laughs and goes to adjust her hair but then curses.

“My bracelet is stuck, can you help me?” I reach up and unwind her hair from where it’s gotten wrapped around the charm on her bracelet.

I see these types of bracelets everywhere. It reminds me of Lizzy’s, only this initial is an S.

“Thanks,” she says. “You’re my hero.”

“Hardly,” I say, telling her the truth. She shakes her head at me and locks the door behind her.

Saige’s parents notice the tattoo right away.

“Oh, Saige, what have you done?” Her mother holds her hands to her face in shock. Mr. Beaumont is less surprised. He seems to know more about his daughter than her mother does.

“It’s a tattoo,” she says, stating the obvious as she flashes her back. She’s clearly pleased with herself and the ruckus she’s causing. Her father shakes his head.

“I hope you went somewhere clean,” he says and gives her a kiss on the cheek before shaking my hand, a little more gently this time.

“What are you going to do when you get married?” Bridgette practically wails. “I want you to go to a doctor and get that lasered off. Right away.” I have to bite back a laugh. Getting tattoos removed is not that easy and it’s an extremely painful process. Most people who have tattoos they don’t want either live with them or get them covered up with another design.

“No way,” Saige says. “I love it and it’s not your body. It’s mine. I choose what I get to do with it.” She takes my arm and steps past her still-scandalized mother, into the room where we had drinks last time.

I have no choice but to follow her. This night is going to be interesting, to say the least.

Saige’s mom spends the next half hour trying to convince her to undo the tattoo that is already done. Mr. Beaumont tries to placate her, but it’s no use.

I’m surprised Saige doesn’t mention my tattoos in her own defense. But I’d rather not have her father know about that particular bit of me. It’s much easier to play the Quinn part that way.

Finally fed up with the lecturing, Saige lets the bomb drop that we’re officially dating. Her mother makes a sound I’ve never heard from a human before. It’s halfway between a scream and the kind of sound a bat makes. Her face goes red and I think she’s going to leap over the table and strangle me, but Saige puts her hand on my arm.

“My choices have nothing to do with you, Mom. I’m living my own life. You can’t control me anymore, or try to make me into something I’m not. We all know how well that worked out when I was a kid.” She rolls her eyes and looks at her father for a lifeline.

“Why don’t we all just calm down,” Beaumont says, but clearly Bridgette does not want to be calmed, so he takes her out of the room for a breather. This is my chance, so I tell Saige I’m going to use the bathroom. I hear Beaumont and Bridgette arguing in the den and it sounds like it’s not ending anytime soon.

As quickly as I can, I slip into his office. I’m going to have to work fast. I set up the recording devices for video and sound in each corner, under his desk and in a few other places. Every inch is covered. His laptop is out on the desk and turned on. It’s not even locked and I almost start laughing. This man must really trust everyone. In only a few moments I’ve installed the invisible tracking software and downloaded everything on the hard drive. I slip the thumb drive in my pocket and make sure everything is in its place and that I haven’t left anything behind.

Confident, I wipe my prints off anything I may have touched, including the doorknob and open the door cautiously. I close it, wipe the handle and then go into the bathroom. I run the water, send Cash an all systems go text and then come out again.

I nearly run into Beaumont on my way back to the dinner table. I keep my face calm as he snags my arm and pulls me aside.

“Is something wrong?” I say in a neutral tone.

“No, I just wanted to talk to you. It seems as if you and Saige have made things official.”

“Yes. I care for your daughter very much.” A truth. His eyes narrow, as if he’s trying to see if I’m pulling a fast one.

“This has nothing to do with you or with our financial relationship. I would have fallen for Saige regardless of who her parents were. She’s an amazing and wonderful girl and if you can’t see why I would love her, then you don’t see her clearly.” I definitely didn’t mean to say all that, but I feel like he’s attacking me and I need to defend myself.

He looks at me for several long seconds and then nods his head.

“She is special, and I’m glad you see that. You obviously have real feelings for her.”

“I do.” It’s so easy to tell him how much I care about her because none of it is a lie.

“Then I hope you understand that I will do anything in my power to protect her and keep her safe.”

“I do understand and I agree.” For now. For two more weeks.

“Good. I’m glad we got that straight and that we understand one another.” He gives me a smile and another handshake.

“Now that’s settled, we should probably get back to the girls. I think my wife has finally calmed down.” I doubt that, but we go back to the dinner anyway. I’m thrilled my plan worked so well and that we’re well on our way to getting this guy and ripping all the opulence out from under his feet. It’s a shame that he’s such a horrible person because he created a wonderful daughter.

I catch her watching me out of the corner of my eye and when we’re on the way back to her place I ask her about it.

“I just like looking at you. Is that a crime?”

“No. Not at all. You can look at me as much as you want.”

“What I’d really like to do is look at you without your clothes on. Do you think that can be arranged?”

I laugh.

“I definitely think that can be arranged.”

She gets a message on her phone as I help her out of the car and it makes her frown.

“What is it?” I ask as we walk up the steps to her building. She types something and then looks up at me with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Nothing. Just my mom being crazy again. I wish I had taken a picture of her face when she saw my tattoo. Her face was pretty priceless.” She laughs and we head up to her place.

“Can you do something for me?” I ask.

“Sure, what?” I go to my bag and pull out the little piercing she used to have that she’d given me for safekeeping.

“Will you put this in and let me fuck you while you’re wearing it?” That makes her throw back her head.

“You are an interesting man, Quinn Brand.” It takes her a little bit of fiddling, but she gets the horseshoe-shaped bit of metal through her septum and screws the balls on either end so it won’t come out.

“Fuck me, that’s hot,” I say as she models it for me. It gives her look a whole different dimension and with the visible tattoo on her back she looks like a redheaded goddess.

How in the hell did I get so lucky to be with her?

“If I knew you were going to like it so much, I would have put it in sooner,” she says, pulling the straps of the dress over her shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. She quickly shimmies out of her bra and panties and she’s gloriously naked. I don’t know if I’ve ever been this turned on in my life. I want her so much it’s painful.

“I do like it. Very much,” I say as she comes forward and starts to strip me. I was able to pop the flash drive in my car so I don’t have to worry about her discovering it. Cash will pick it up while we’re doing this. It’s a good system we’ve got going on.

Once I’m naked she kisses me so hard that I can feel the metal of the piercing and it’s like throwing a match to a drum of gasoline.

I fuck her harder than I ever have before. It’s savage and desperate and I’m afraid it’s going to kill both of us. But she’s right there with me, biting, pulling, begging. We ravage each other and when it’s over we’re both covered in bites and scratches and I know if I had longer hair, I’d be missing a few chunks. Somehow we’ve ended up on the floor and she starts to laugh.

“What was that?” I shake my head, and even that simple movement is too much effort after all the energy I just let out.

“I have no idea,” I say. Every time we’re together feels significant. I chalk it up to the fact that our sexual encounters are limited, but I don’t know if that’s entirely it.

“Me neither,” she says, and I turn my head to meet her eyes. This time she’s the one who looks worried.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. She swallows and closes her eyes, as if she can’t bear to look at me. She looks up at the ceiling and forces a smile.

“Nothing. I’m just tired.”

I want to ask her more about it, but I’m also exhausted. We fall asleep on her floor, wrapped in her sheets and each other’s arms.

Twenty-Seven

“We’ve hit the mother lode,” Cash says with glee the next night. The guys have all congregated to go through the information on the flash drive and sort through the first few hours of surveillance. It’s helpful that there are so many of us because it makes searching through hours of boring video from several different angles go a lot faster.

“Here’s everything. Financial records, contact info. It’s like he wanted us to find it,” Cash says with a laugh. “These guys with money think they’re so untouchable that they don’t even bother to protect themselves.”

“Is it enough for blackmail?” I ask and Cash nods eagerly. He seems to have completely recovered from his alcohol-induced breakdown and bounced back to his cheerful self. I’m glad because I don’t really know how to handle a morose Cash.

“Abso-fucking-lutely. We don’t even need the video. This is more than enough.” Perfect.

“I got something,” Row says, taking his headphones off and snapping his fingers to get our attention. He, Hardy, Track and Baz are all set up with laptops and headphones, going through the surveillance.

The rest of us stop what we’re doing and pay attention as Row pulls out the headphones and turns the volume full up.

It’s a phone call between Beaumont and someone else and if we didn’t already have the financial records, that would be enough for us to have him right where we want him.

We all listen as Beaumont lays out his plan to shift a bunch of his money to offshore accounts to avoid taxes, his plans to skirt EPA regulations and pay off politicians. All in one phone call.

“You know who he’s talking to?” I ask Row.

“It’s one of his business partners, Clint Hardwicke.” The two of them were thick as thieves, which they actually were. Dirty, dirty, dirty.

“Go ahead and copy the most important parts and we’ll start amassing a file.” We never confronted our marks in person. Too risky. But once we had enough in a file, we sent it to them and laid out our demands: Let us keep the money we’ve already taken and we won’t release the file. Works like a charm.

In another hour or so, we have a good file started. It’s in our best interest to amass as much data as possible, so we’re going to wait a few more days and get some more video and hopefully more documents and records from his computer. We need to show that his dirty deeds have been ongoing and widespread.

Two weeks. Less than that, actually. I leave the meeting and head back to Saige’s. I told her about Leo on Sunday and she insisted that I bring him with me now, so I pick him up on my way. As soon as I walk into her place, she’s all over him and he’s all over her. It’s hard to tell who loves the other more. I’ve never heard him purr so much.

“I think he’s giving me a run for my money,” I say as we sit on the couch and watch a stupid movie as Leo sleeps in Saige’s lap.

“Well, he’s a little bit easier to cuddle than you are, but I’d always end up as the big spoon, so.” I know she’s joking, so I just shake my head at her.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Whatever,” she says, sticking her tongue out at me. I want to bite it. She’s taken to wearing her nose ring when we’re alone and I have to say I love it. I’ve taken a few pictures of her on my phone when she wasn’t looking and I’m going to transfer them when I get a new one in California. We’re not supposed to leave anything or take anything with us, but I’m going to take a few bits of Saige with me. I can’t just erase her from my life. I just can’t.

Leo ends up sleeping between us that night.

“He’s so sweet, I don’t want to move him,” Saige whispers, stroking his ears. He stretches out and I can tell he’s relishing all the attention.

“Cockblocker,” I say, glaring at him. He just yawns and moves closer to Saige.

She chuckles and keeps petting him.

I wake in the middle of the night and I feel like I can’t breathe. I sit up and look around. Saige is beside me, Leo between sitting up us and looking at me with big eyes as if I’ve disturbed his sleep.

Saige is sound asleep, so I get out of bed as quietly as I can and go to the bathroom to get a glass of water. My skin feels uncomfortable and I can’t seem to get a deep breath. I have no idea why. I wasn’t having a particularly bad dream. I have those sometimes, especially when I think about my mother before I go to bed.

I come back to bed and see Leo has taken my spot. I shove him over and grab hold of Saige. I need something to hold onto because I feel like I’m falling apart.

“Are you okay?” Saige asks me the next morning. I know I look like shit because I didn’t get any sleep last night even after I grabbed hold of Saige and held onto her like she was a life preserver.

“Yeah, just didn’t sleep well. I feel off,” I say, which is an understatement. I can’t really describe it, other than that.

Saige reaches her hand up and puts it on my forehead like my mother used to do.

“You feel a little warm. Maybe you’re coming down with something.” I shake my head because it’s not my body that’s sick. It’s my mind.

“Maybe you should stay home. I only have a two classes today and I can come back and take care of you.” As appealing as the idea is, I need to go to work.

“Will you wear a sexy nursing outfit anyway?” I ask. She smacks my shoulder and then goes to fill Leo’s water dish. He’s wrapping himself around her legs and meowing like he’s being horribly neglected.

“We’ll see. But take it easy. I’ve been worried about you.” She won’t need to worry for much longer. I put a smile on my face and put both hands on her ass to haul her to me for a kiss.

“I’m fine. Just busy with work. I’ll see you tonight.” I grab my briefcase and she waves goodbye to me as Leo begs for attention. For a second I allow myself to imagine that I could do this every day. That this would be my routine, giving Saige a kiss and going off to work.

In another life.

Saige’s instincts are right on the money and I start feeling achy and awful around noon. By the end of the day I can barely hold my head up and I’ve run to the bathroom to hurl twice. Other than migraines, I’m almost never under the weather and it makes me surly.

I tell Grace that I might not be in tomorrow and she gives me a look of pity, but I see the jumbo bottle of hand sanitizer she’s got on her desk. She’ll probably coat the office with it after I leave.

I can barely stand by the time I make it to Saige’s and she takes immediate pity on me. I’m put to bed, given medicine and tea and cool cloths are pressed to my forehead and then she’s lying next to me and humming. In my sickness haze, it takes me a while to realize it’s “Fire and Rain” by James Taylor. My mother’s favorite song.

I don’t want to think about her right now.

“Stop,” I say, but it comes out as a whisper. My throat is raw from vomiting.

“I thought you loved that song. You told me it was your favorite,” she says. I crack my eyes open and look up at her. She’s just so beautiful.

“It reminds me of my mother,” I say.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” she says, removing the cloth and stroking my forehead with cool fingers.

“It’s okay,” I say. My defenses are down and I just don’t give a fuck anymore. I’m leaving anyway, so what does it matter?

Her hands pause for a moment as she absorbs that information and then they start moving again. “You said she was murdered. Who killed her?”

“Someone that my father owed money to.” I hear a sharp intake of breath and watch her face as she thinks about that bit of information.

“And what happened to him?” I inhale for a long time before I tell her.

“He was killed in prison. I’m glad he’s dead. He deserved it.” Her fingers freeze again. I don’t care if I sound callous. You can’t judge until you know the situation.

“I’m so sorry for you. So very sorry.” I know she means it, but I don’t want to talk anymore.

“Stop it,” I say and she takes her hand away.

“I’m sorry,” she says, getting up to leave me alone.

“Don’t go. Just don’t talk about her,” I get out. She seems to understand and comes back to sit next to me.

“Just rest. Don’t worry about anything else.”

I finally drift off to sleep and she’s right there beside me.

The next time my eyes open I still feel bad, but not as bad. Must have been a 24 hour thing. Saige is curled up beside me, sleeping soundly and Leo is at her feet. I get up carefully so I don’t wake her and go to use the bathroom and brush my teeth because my mouth tastes disgusting.

I check the burner phone and find a message from Cash that they’ve got more for the file and I reply back that I’m pleased and then stumble back to bed. Saige’s eyes flutter open when I pull the covers back to get in. I’m really cold for some reason.

“How are you feeling?” she asks. It’s about one in the morning and she has to be exhausted from caring for me. I never planned for her to see me that way, but she’s an excellent nurse.

“Better, but still shitty,” I say, lowering myself into bed. My stomach rolls and I get ready to bolt again, but it settles and I lay back down.

“I’ll go get you some ginger ale,” she says, but I reach out my hand to stop her.

“It’s okay. It can wait.” But she shakes her head and does it anyway and I’m not in a position to stop her.

A few minutes later she comes back with a glass of fizzing ginger ale and a small plate of crackers.

“See if you can keep this down,” she says, handing me a cracker. Obediently, I take it from her and nibble at one corner. The stuff is dry and salty, but I hope it won’t come back up.

Saige watches me eat and sip and I can tell she wants to say something.

“You were talking in your sleep. It woke me up,” she says. I have no idea what she’s talking about.

“I don’t talk in my sleep,” I say, finishing a cracker and starting a second.

“Well, then you only do when you’re sick. You said a lot of stuff that didn’t make sense.” I look at her and hope my eyes and expression are steady. Every now and then when I was a child I’d talk in my sleep. My mother thought it was funny and used to write down some of the things I’d say, but I haven’t done it in a long, long time. Or at least no one’s been aware of it.

“Did anything I said make sense?”

“You just kept saying that you were Sylas.” The bottom drops out of my stomach and I want to throw up for a different reason now. There’s no way to hide my reaction to her saying my real name.

“Who’s Sylas?” she asks as I try to breathe.

“No one,” I say and we both know that’s a lie. There’s nothing I can say to get myself out of this situation.

“Okay,” she says, pretending she believes me. “Dreams are funny sometimes, aren’t they?” She smiles and gives me a kiss on the forehead.

“Now eat some more crackers.”

I have no choice but to do what she says, but now I want to sleep with one eye open.

I end up crashing again from exhaustion and the next time I wake up she’s already in the kitchen making breakfast. The ginger ale and crackers stayed down and now my stomach is roaring for real food.

I have two choices: I can either make up a story about the name Sylas, or I can just let it drop. If I make a big deal out of it, she’ll think it’s a big deal and that might send up more red flags than if I just drop it.

So I decide to drop it as I stumble out of the bedroom.

“He lives!” she says, coming to give me a hug, wearing nothing but one of my t-shirts.

“I thought you were going to turn yourself inside out there for a little while. How are you?” She looks up at me with a sleepy smile on her face.

“Much better. Do you have maybe some oatmeal or something? I don’t want to risk anything that’s going to come back up again.” She hands me a bowl that is filled with oatmeal, bananas and blueberries.

“There’s more crackers and ginger ale if you can’t do that,” she says, making herself a bowl of oatmeal and putting the fruit on top.

“This is fine, thank you.” She takes my hand and leads me to the couch. She sits with her legs crossed under her, facing me with her bowl.

“Your color looks a lot better. I wonder what you had.”

“No idea,” I say, still wary of her. She seems to have forgotten our conversation last night.

“Well, I’m crossing my fingers I don’t get it because that was not fun and I wasn’t even the one going through it.”

“If you do, I’ll take care of you. Thank you for everything, Saige.” I really mean this. She didn’t have to do that for me, and she did it without even hesitating.

“You’re my boyfriend. It’s my job to take care of you.” She pops her spoon in her mouth and smiles around it.

I decide I’m well enough to go to work.

My energy is still down, but my stomach seems to be back to normal function. By the end of the day, I’m wiped and ready to go back to Saige.

She doesn’t mention Sylas again, or at any point during the next week. Soon we’re only one week out and I’m counting my hours with her. We’ve been on dates and out dancing and I’ve hung out with her friends in an official capacity. Lo still doesn’t like me, but at this point it doesn’t matter at all. Still, I pretend to try to win her over and I think I do a little bit.

The guys are going full-throttle to get everything moved to California. Most of the cars are already gone and Hardy has gone on ahead to get everything set up for us. By the time we get there, our apartments will be set up and we’ll have new identities.

“I want to be Slash this time,” Cash says, opening an old argument. He always wants to have a name that’s both ridiculous and very close to his current name.

“Too bad,” Row says as he hands out our new documentation.

This time I’m Robert Perry. It sounds like the name of a boring politician.

“Glenn Buttlicker?” Cash says, reading the name on his new driver’s license. Row snickers and we all start laughing.

“This is not fucking funny,” Cash says, his face getting red. He’s already on edge because he’s packing up his antiques and loading them into a truck that he’s going to personally drive all the way to Cali. He does this every time because he doesn’t trust anyone else to move his precious crap.

“Just kidding. You’re Kenneth Andrews.” We tend to pick names that are simple and easy to forget.

“Boring,” Cash says, tossing away the fake ID and grabbing the other from Row.

“Hey, you can go back to being Mr. Buttlicker if you want.” Row waves the joke ID in front of Cash’s face and he just glares.

I’ve found Lizzy a new place and I’ve got the paperwork to transfer her. All I need to do is pick her up and we’ll drive one of the cars to California with no one the wiser. I called her and told her she was moving and she sounded a little sad, but when I mentioned the new facility has a pool, she just about lost her mind with excitement. I feel bad dragging her away, but I’m doing the best I can, given the circumstances.

Four days before we’re set to email the file to her father, Saige is acting odd.

“You okay?” She’s been clumsy and distracted, which is very unlike her.

“Yeah, fine,” she says in a squeaky voice as she absently pets Leo while doing her homework. Well, pretending to do her homework. She’s been staring off into space for at least the last ten minutes. I’ve been reading and I keep looking up from my book.

“You’re not fine, what’s up?” I set my book down and she turns in her chair to face me. Her face is a little red, which is odd. She doesn’t blush all that much when we’re not in bed.

“I need to tell you something.” I have another moment when the bottom drops out of my world. All I can think is that she’s found out who I am and she’s going to tell my father. That I said way more in my sleep than she originally told me. It takes everything in me to keep my voice even when I speak.

“What’s that?”

She takes a breath, bites her lip and then lets it out.

“I love you.”

Oh.

Oh.

OH.

“That’s not what I was expecting,” I blurt out as her face goes twelve shades of red.

“Well, that’s it. You don’t have to say it back. I just… I wanted you to know. I’ve wanted you to know for a while, but I thought it was maybe too soon since we just started seeing each other.” I get up from the couch and walk over to her. I get down on my knees so our faces are level.

“That wasn’t what I was expecting, but I can’t deny that I’m happy to hear it,” I say. Her face falls a little bit.

“But you’re not ready to say it back. Be honest with me, Quinn.” I hate the way my fake name sounds on her lips. I want her to call me Sylas just once.