He glances back at me. “You asked what cafeteria food I had for lunch.” Our eyes dive to the bottoms of each other’s gaze. “A tuna sandwich. The day before that was chicken salad, and both were extremely fucking mediocre. The food is nothing special.” He takes a beat. “I’m sorry that I’ve been distant about work—I know that I am. Fuck, I hate that I am, but I just can’t talk about ityet.”
Yet.
So that wasn’t all of it. I nod a fewtimes.
His chest rises in a tight inhale. “I’m trying to protect you, wolf scout. Trustme.”
I stop myself from asking,fromwhat?
Because I remember that I’ve protected him from remorse, guilt, regret every time I withhold what he’s missed. I don’t rehash all the bullshit each heckler yells at the townhouse. Or how security has had trouble securing my bedroom window, even after the drone. I won’t tell him how the other day I asked Bruno, my new bodyguard,“Is something wrong?”and he stayedquiet.
With Declan, my bodyguard before Farrow, I was used to that silent treatment and lack of info. With Farrow, he gave meeverything.
Everything.
He showed me whatbetterlooked and felt like, and now there’s this strange emptiness that Farrow oncefilled.
I don’t tell him any ofthat.
Because I’m not going to hurt him, and I realize now that there must be something similar happening on hisend.
He’s protectingme.
I nod, more assured. “I getit.”
Farrow skims my features, easing more, and he reaches into the fridge and grabs a FizzLife.
With his silver rings still in my palm, I absentmindedly slip a few onto myfingers.
“Tricyclics,” Farrow says, sitting right up against my side, on my orange beanbag. Shoulder to shoulder. He hands me the soda, and he bites into his apple. His movements distract my brain, and I shake my head.Fuck.
“What?” Iask.
He smiles. “Tricyclics, wolfscout.”
I must look massively confused. Because Iam.
“The quiz question.” Farrow flicks mynotecard.
Right. I glance at the answer. “Good guess,” I say dryly, the air lightening. We both breathe easier, and I’m happy aboutthat.
“Not a guess.” He chews his apple, and I hone in on his upturning lips. He notices and asks, “Sure you don’t want me to fuck you allnight?”
Very unsure.“Positive, and you should tease the wall, the carpet, that lampshade over there.” I point to the lamp across the loft. “Because it’d be more likely to give intoyou.”
Farrow lets out a long whistle. “He wants me to flirt with inanimateobjects.”
I try really hard not to laugh. Christ,focus.I shuffle through a few more cards, and I notice the silver rings on my fingers.Hisrings.
I’ve worn them before today. Just like this, but it dawns on me in this second that his rings fit my fingers perfectly. We’re pretty much the same size. And I’ve never noticed thatbefore.
I wouldn’t need to steal a ring in order to match his size. I can just buy one that fits me—and I can’t believe I’m thinking about this. But it’s never meant something to me the way it does rightnow.
This powerful moment surges through my core. Because I feel ready to do more than just dream or think about forever with him. I’m going to make ithappen.
26
MAXIMOFF HALE