Page 67 of Ezra
Somewhere in the midst of this, the distance between us has narrowed. Like we can’t help but erase the inches between us.
“BecauseI’m not staying,” I finish for him. It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, saying it aloud, but it does. “Because of my job and everything I said about France and Europe.”
“Not just your job. Your dream,” Ezra corrects tenderly for me. “What kind of man would I be if I tried to deter you from it?”
“You didn’t talk about it because you knew it couldn’t go anywhere,” I mumble, lowering my eyes. “Because you’re considerate. Better than most men. Anyone else would be selfish and try to talk me out of it.”
“Katrina.”
He speaks my name so softly, and behind his words, I wonder if I’m imagining a similar ache to the one in my chest. Then his fingers slip beneath my chin, gently tilting my head up, so that I have no choice but to meet his eyes. Just that small touch is enough to assail my stomach with butterflies.
“You are an incredible woman,” he says. “You’re smart. Fearless. Honest. Nobody can look at you and say anything to the contrary. And if things were different...”
“If things were different.” Melancholy replaces the delight from his touch. “But they aren’t. So there isn’t any point.”
He brushes my cheek lightly with his thumb before he lets his hand fall. He sighs, his voice a low rumble. “Where’s your phone?”
I pull it out of my purse, offering it to him unlocked. He takes it, thumb tapping across the screen. “You have my number. If anything seems wrong, if you think you’re in trouble, if you need assistance—you don’t have to call the precinct. You can reach out to me directly.”
“Is that allowed?”
“I don’t care,” Ezra replies dryly. “Deion’s not going to rat me out, anyway. What could they do? Shut me down?”
I stare down at my phone after he hands it back to me. Even having it doesn’t necessarily brighten my mood, because by hisown words, something has to be wrong for me to reach out. I can’t just call or text to shoot the breeze, like I can with Zoey. He’s busy. I can’t bother him.
“They’d better not. I’d hate to come after the ACU for sabotaging their own squad and wrecking their best detective.”
Ezra gazes at me. “You’re the only person beyond Deion and Jayne who outwardly acknowledges all I do. I won’t forget that.”
The elevator door opens again. My time with Ezra is over. “You’ll be safe?” I step away reluctantly.
He casts his gaze upward and scoffs bitterly. “Don’t worry about me. I’m always safe.”
He walks with me to my front door. I’m reluctant to say goodbye for good.
“Do you have everything you need?” he asks.
“An air mattress, remember?” I say. “I’m all set. Anyway, you should go. Your family’s waiting for you, aren’t they? I’ve taken enough of your time.” I try to sound chipper, but my hurt comes across more than I wanted it to.
He hesitates, perplexed by my horrible poker face. “Katrina, I?—”
“It’s really okay,” I reassure him, even as my eyes grow hot with tears. I need to go inside. I’m sure I look like an idiot, moments away from crying. My emotions aren’t his problem. He’s got much more important things to do for the victims, for the city. I can’t be selfish. I open my door and step inside. “Thank you again for the ride. Good night.”
He briefly nods, rubbing his neck. “Good night.”
I give him one last weak smile and shut the door. My apartment is a small two-bedroom on the fourteenth floor of a new development. I don’t dare let myself cry, even with a door and a hallway between us. He’s got those amazing, super-powered ears, so I’m going to be strong for his sake. I stand by the windows, peering down at the street where I can seehis cruiser. After a few minutes, he emerges from the entrance, walking through the rain toward his car. He pauses, glancing up at my building as he opens the door. Then he slips into the driver’s seat, and the headlights illuminate the street in front of him. He slowly pulls away.
I’m letting myself have a good cry on my air mattress when I hear a strange shuffling in my bag. I look up as it unzips. Charlie tumbles out with a happy trill, which turns into a confused beep when he sees me in my current state.
I reach out for him, both delighted and relieved. “Charlie!”
The little spider-droid skitters across the floor and hops onto my bed, all but leaping into my arms. I hug him tightly as I sob. He stowed away. I can’t believe it.
I plant kisses over his cold metal casing. “Oh, Charlie.”
He pets my damp cheek with the end of his leg, beeping inquisitively.
“Ezra’s gone, so I’m just having a pity-party.” I hug him again. “But don’t worry, I’ll be better in the morning. I’ll bounce back. I always do.”
