Page 80 of Break Me Apart
Ari’s mouth twitches. “They’ll be fine for the night,” he says after a moment. “Niko won’t sleep much, but he’ll manage. He always does.”
I watch the line of his mouth when he says it and the slight tension in his jaw. He’s carrying more than he says out loud, which is hardly breaking news, but I still catch it. “I stayed with him all yesterday,” I tell him. “He didn’t argue.”
“That means he trusts you,” Ari says.
“Or he was too tired to put up a fight.”
“Probably both.”
We eat in companionable silence for a few minutes, which still feels mildly miraculous after weeks of distance. The mess hall hums around us; it all folds into the background until this little bit of table feels oddly private despite being completely exposed. I hadn’t realised how much I’d missed that, just sitting opposite him while the world gets on with itself.
When Ari looks up again, I can tell there’s already a decision in his eyes before he speaks.
“We need somewhere private,” he says, low enough that it doesn’t carry.
There’s no point pretending I don’t know what he means. “After lights out.” I think for a minute, running through the map of the base automatically. Corners, blind spots, and places where people only go if they’ve got a reason.
“Motor pool?” I ask.
A corner of his mouth lifts. “As usual.”
“I’ll meet you there,” I reply, grinning.
We finish eating without drawing attention to ourselves. When we stand, Ari passes close enough that the contact at my side could almost be accidental if anyone were looking, which nobody is. It’s brief, but it’s enough to send a bright little current straight through me that I have to very firmly ignore.
I watch him go, then drag my eyes elsewhere before I start looking obvious.
Night willcome soon enough.
TWENTY-SIX
ARSENY
The floodlights in the motor pool hum overhead, throwing long shadows between the parked vehicles. Most of them are dark now. The engines are cold, and the canvas is stiff with frost. The snow has drifted into the edges in little frozen piles and stayed there untouched.
I climb into the back of one of the trucks and sit with my back against the cab, my legs braced out in front of me. Waiting has never been a problem for me. Thinking while I wait is the problem.
Before my thoughts can swallow me up, headlights sweep across the far end of the motor pool, catching my attention, then disappear. A few seconds later, I hear footsteps. They’re unhurried and familiar enough that I know exactly who it is before I see him.
Caiden climbs into the truck bed and sits beside me, close enough that our shoulders touch straight away.
For a moment, neither of us says anything. We sit there in the quiet with the cold all around us, the fact that we’re here pressed into the same small space. “I missed you,” he says eventually.
“I know,” I say, looking over at him. “I missed you, too.” He exhales slowly, and some of the tension flows out of him. Then he shifts slightly, and I lean into him without making a thing of it, resting my head against his shoulder as his arm comes up around me.
That single, tiny thing eases something inside me immediately.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I say. It comes out quietly, barely above a whisper.
“Me too,” he says, and there’s no hesitation in it at all, which gives me that regular warm feeling in my chest.
We stay like that for a bit. His hand rests against my side, his thumb moving in slow little strokes through the fabric of my shirt. I hadn’t realised how badly I needed ordinary touch until he got here and ruined my ability to pretend otherwise.
After a while, he turns his head slightly and looks at me. “You look like you’re carrying a lot.”
I let out a breath through my nose. “I am. I wish you being here could make it stop,” I add.
“I know,” he says. Then his mouth shifts, very slightly. “But maybe... I can distract you.”
