Page 48 of With Us

Knowing he was right, I nodded. “One week.”

“Everything’s a negotiation with you,” he muttered.

“Since you know whatever is holding her back, do you have any suggestions?”

He hesitated. “You’re really into her?”

“When’s the last time… No, wait,” I corrected, thinking better of it. “When have youeverseen me like this?”

“In our line of work—”

“I’ve been making time for her, Luca. A lot of it. More than I’ve ever done, but especially lately. With the rest of it, I’m being fucking selfish.”

It might have been her gorgeous looks that drew me to her initially, but that wasn’t what kept me interested. After spending the last month with her, I knew Dahlia didn’t have the personality of a gelatinous fish. There were probably a million and one reasons I shouldn’t pursue her, top of the list being my work. But I was an asshole and was doing it anyway.

Luc nodded. “Don’t give her space. But don’t overwhelm her.”

“What the hell does that even mean?”

He shrugged. “It’s the best I can do. She needs to know you’re not going anywhere.”

Filing away the info, I refocused on the night. “Can we get off the subject of my love life now?”

“Hey, you started it. And why are we driving in silence?” Reaching forward, Luc pressed the button to turn on the radio.

We both jumped as obnoxious prepubescent singing filled the car at max volume, the word ‘Baby’ being repeated over and over.

Luc turned horrified eyes to me. “Is this… Bieber?!”

Pressing eject, I grabbed the burned copy and saw the word ‘For’ in feminine writing.

There was a lull until the next CD in the four-disc changer started up.

Luc choked on his laughter. “Is it? Is it too late now to say sorry?”

Ejecting that one, I saw ‘your’ written in the same handwriting.

Another song started, the upbeat tune filling the car before I pressed eject again. Smiling at the word ‘listening’, I found myself wishing the disc capacity was much larger.

The last CD whirred into place, a basic guitar chord strumming. I reached to stop it, but Luc blocked me. “This your favorite song, Luc?”

“No, it’s just not Bieber. Who is this?”

I shrugged and touched the button, looking at the disc for a clue.

“‘For your listening dimpled pleasure’,” Luc said as he read all four discs, confusion in his voice. “Why dimpled?”

“It’s One Direction.” My smile grew to a grin. “Harry and I have the same dimples.”

Luc switched to my usual satellite radio station. “Is there a specific reason Dahlia tried to blast your eardrums with teen pop heartthrobs?”

“The real question,” I said, plans already forming, “is why she’d go through the work to do that if she was really ending things?”

Feeling better than I had ten minutes before, I tucked the CDs away carefully and finished the drive to Amaric.

Chapter Seven

Alone

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