We’re nearing the end of October right now. I can try to talk to my guidance counselor and ask her to put out feelers for a transfer. If I could, I’d draft her an email this very moment, but my phone is bugged and I don’t have a personal laptop. I usually do my schoolwork on a laptop I share with Valerie.
The library has computers available for student use, though. I could sign into my school email on one of them and send a message to my guidance counselor. Or I could try to meet with her in person.
My head starts to prickle with an oncoming headache as Dorian parks in the parking lot of the library. Despite his surly silence, he still opens my car door for me and keeps a hand at the small of my back as we enter the building. After I check out a school laptop from the librarian, we set up in one of the private rooms at the back of the library, one that has walls lined with bookshelves holding dusty textbooks and a large wooden table. As I pull my things out of my backpack and open the laptop, I worry my lip. If I tell Dorian I’m meeting up with my guidance counselor, I’ll have a chance to negate his suspicions, but if he finds out in some other way, I’ll be in trouble.
“I’m going to try to see my guidance counselor,” I tell Dorian.
He slowly looks up from his laptop, arching an eyebrow at me. “Why?”
I try to muster a brave face. “I need to talk about doubling up my spring semester schedule. The sooner I graduate, the faster I can get to vet school, and the better chance I’ll have for a scholarship.If I can double up on spring classes and take extra summer semester courses, I’ll graduate fall of next year. Then I’ll dedicate the rest of the year to my work at the animal shelter while also applying to vet schools.”
Dorian blinks a few times, and his eyes warm. “Overachiever much, Mira?”
I shrug. “I have to be. The more I do, the faster I get ahead, and the farther away I get from my past.”
He tilts his head to the side. “I’m sorry you had a nightmare last night. Do you want to talk about it?”
I shake my head. “No.”
He nods, seeming pensive. “You know you can, though, right? You can talk to me about whatever you want.”
I’m sure Icould, but I have no guarantee that any information I give Dorian will actually stay with him. I don’tthinkhe’s one to gossip, I don’t get that vibe from him, but even so, I also don’t want to give him more ammunition against me.
“Thanks,” I say noncommittally.
Dorian nods. “Yeah. Why is it you want to get so far ahead?” His eyebrows furrow as he contemplates me. “Is it because you want to get away from me?”
It takes all of my control not to stiffen. I need to choose my wording carefully to avoid his suspicion.
“No,” I say blandly. “It’s because I want to get ahead in life, like I said. Besides, you didn’t give me a solid timeline for how long I’d be staying with you. You mentioned end of semester, but didn’t reiterate it when I asked again. In any case, what does it matter? I don’t assume that I’ll be spending next year as yourguest,will I?”
He doesn’t respond for long moments, which makes me swallow harshly. “What if you did?” he asks. “What if I told you that I want to keep you? Not as my prisoner or guest, but as my woman?”
I force a laugh. “Then I’d tell you you’re completely insane.”
He doesn’t get offended; instead, he nods. “Fair enough.” He pauses. “You could be, though. Mine. If you wanted to be.”
Despite myself, my thoughts wander in a direction they shouldn’t. I see a clear image of Dorian and I together, some time in the future. Me coming home from a long day at vet school, him smiling softly and welcoming me back with a kiss.
But then… it wouldn’t just be us. I have to keep Connor and Seamus in mind. I wouldn’t be returning to Dorian, I’d be returning to his crew—legion, as he calls it. Seamus can be okay, sometimes, but Connor is a non-starter. I don’t want anything to do with him; I loathe being in the same house as him. If it werejustDorian, if he weren’t part of some gang or mafia gig, things might be different, but they aren’t. I’ve already gotten plenty of experience with one gang member; I don’tneed more.
“We’re not compatible,” I tell him. “The life you lead is triggering to me. I might seem like I can hold my own, and I can, but that doesn’t mean that Iwantto. I don’t want to live in fear.”
“Contrary to what you might’ve gathered the other night, my life is no more or less dangerous than the average person’s,” Dorian remarks. “That was an odd-out situation. One I’m working to ensure won’t repeat itself. I might have dealings in the dark, but that’s not the whole of my identity. I won’t always be working solely in illegal circles. I intend to go into legitimate lines of business.”
“That’s wonderful for you,” I say. “It doesn’t change things. Even if Iwantedto like you, I couldn’t. You stress me out.”
“What if I worked to change that?” He asks. “I know you don’t like living in a house with the others. How about we get a place away from them?”
I blink slowly. He’s saying a lot of extravagant things, even talking about us moving in togetherseparately, theorizing about a future exempt from criminal work.
"Dorian," I say slowly, “why are you talking about all of this? What’s with all the what ifs? What’s with theweshit? Do you really like me that much?”
He glances to the side before once again meeting my gaze. His is uncommonly open and unguarded, allowing me to see the stark desire and longing that it holds. More, there’s something lonely there. Some untold yearning for connection to replace a sense of emptiness. I feel in his energy the same thing I see in his gaze; a soul-deep desire. A want, aneedfor something between us.
“I feel a connection to you,” he admits, his expression sober and tone sincere. “More than I’ve ever felt with another girl. I want to explore it. Ireallywant to explore it, Mira.”
The stark honesty and openness of his admission is touching. So touching it almost makes me want to lean in and kiss him. Almost, but not quite.
