Page 57 of Rookie Rules

"Tomorrow," he said. "We talk."

"Sounds ominous."

"It is practical."

"Much worse."

Rowan almost smiled. The expression arrived and was gone before Luca could decide whether it counted.

"Get some sleep," Rowan said.

"You drove across town to ruin that possibility."

"Recovery matters."

"I feel very mentored."

This time the corner of Rowan's mouth did move.

Then he left.

Luca stood in the quiet apartment and listened to the outer door close. A minute later, an engine started in the lot below.

He could have gone to the window. He did not.

The bedroom still held Rowan's warmth. Luca returned to it, picked up the abandoned water glass, and found Rowan's watch was no longer on the nightstand. Of course it wasn't. Rowan left no equipment behind.

Luca lay down and pressed one hand to the space beside him.

Rowan had chosen him.

Tonight.

The word had been there from the beginning. Luca had heard it, understood it, and accepted it because wanting Rowan felt larger than the limit.

Now, alone, he understood the limit had come home with them.

His phone lit with a message.

Home.

Nothing else. No good night. No regret.

Luca read it twice.

He typed, Good. Deleted it. Typed, Very practical. Deleted that too.

Finally he sent: Sleep. Recovery matters.

The reply came after a full minute.

It does.

Luca set the phone facedown.

He had wanted proof that Rowan's control was not absence of want. He had it now, written across the room and his own body.

What he did not have was any promise the wanting could remain once morning required a name.