“Stevie.” Her name comes out rough. Warning.
“I know.” She pulls back. Breathes. “I know. We should stop.”
“Yeah.”
Neither of us moves.
She’s pressed against the wall. I’m pressed against her. We’re breathing the same air and I can feel her heartbeat racing under my hand.
“Sal can’t find out about this,” I say quietly. “About any of this. If he knows I’m protecting you instead of hunting you.”
“I understand.”
“I’ll handle it. Keep him off your trail. But you have to stay away. No more visits. No more breaking into houses. Nothing that draws attention.”
“Okay.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.” She touches my face. Gentle. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”
I don’t believe her. But I nod anyway.
“I should go.” I make myself step back. Put distance between us. “Lock the door after me. And Stevie?”
“Yeah?”
“Take off the shirt before you stand in front of windows.”
She laughs. “Got it. No flaunting stolen menswear.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know you are.” She walks me to the door. “That’s what makes it funny.”
I stop at the threshold. Turn back.
She’s standing there in Dario’s shirt with kiss-swollen lips and tangled hair and she’s never looked more beautiful.
“I’ll come back,” I say. “Check on you. Make sure you’re okay.”
“I know.”
“And I’ll tell Dario. About Sal. About all of it.”
“Thank you.”
I want to kiss her again. Want to stay. Want to curl up on her couch and hold her and make sure nothing bad ever touches her again.
Instead, I leave.
Three blocks away, I sit in my car and try to remember how to breathe.
I just kissed her.
And she kissed me back. Wanted me. Said it was okay.
She wants us both. Me and Dario. And somehow that’s not wrong. That’s just how it is.
