Not like him.
“You wouldn’t either,” he said, even as guilt wiped out his building anger at her disinterest in being part of his life.
Darcy’s mouth twisted to the side. “Okay, maybe you’re right, and maybe I wouldn’t. Shit, I don’t know. Nobody’s ever stuck it out long enough to even give me the opportunity. But you hadn’t even thought about it before tonight either. So why don’t you think about it first before you start making any more promises you have to keep?”
That was more of an opening than he’d ever gotten so far.
“It wouldn’t be hard to keep that promise,” he said. “And I did. Think about it. Or at least, I was thinking about you and me. I think about you all the time. That wouldn’t change if you moved somewhere else.”
Darcy ducked her chin to her chest. She twisted away to the side, as unspeaking as she ever was whenever he got brave enough to tell her the smallest part of how he felt about her. He got the sense that she would have pulled her hair over her face to hide if they hadn’t been in the middle of the sidewalk. It took her long seconds to speak, and she didn’t look at him when she did.
“You know I’m not going anywhere until you’re well, right?” she offered. “I won’t bail out on you while you’re still in recovery.”
Teagan briefly closed his eyes, not really reassured. He wasn’t ever going to be recovered. He was going to feel like this the rest of his life. And if Darcy really left in December, he didn’t think he’d recover fromthat, maybe not ever.
But he still had most of three months to work on it.
“I know that,” he said simply.
Darcy twisted back to lean against him. The weight of his body was anchoring.
She tugged on his tie and pressed her knuckles into his stomach, her teeth cutting into her lower lip.
“I’m tired of this place,” she mumbled into his chest. “I don’t know why anyone lives in the city.”
“I was born here,” he said. “I guess I never really thought about living anywhere else.”
He wished he could picture it. He wished he could imagine anything other than this.
Darcy looked up at him through her thick, dark eyelashes.
“Hey, here’s another idea. You know those little frozen fruits that are stuffed with fruit sorbet?”
“Yeah?” Teagan asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pushing his face against her temple. He loved hearing Darcy’s escape plans, even if he’d realized that part of what she was escaping was any thought of permanency, with him or otherwise.
“They have a factory in Florida. We can rent a house on the water, work in the sorbet factory, and eat mangoes on the beach,” she said, tone conveying utter sincerity.
“Hmm. Florida,” he said. “My hair doesn’t handle the humidity well. It sticks straight up, and I look like a muppet.”
Darcy heaved a sigh. “All right, so that’s out. I’ll keep pondering.”
“Please do,” Teagan said. He kissed her forehead, then turned back to the street. It was well after rush hour. Taxis streaked by at high speed, and the lingering pedestrians were rushing past them in the cool dark. He thought about Darcy’s map, which way she’d want to head for the station.
Darcy tugged on his tie again. “Hey. I have a plan for tonight, at least,” she said. A predatory smile spread across her face. “You wanna go home and screw around in the hot tub? It probably works just like a shower.”
Teagan laughed. It wasn’t half of what he wanted from her. But that did sound amazing.
“God, yes,” he said. “Let’s take a cab.”
twenty-one
Teagan couldn’t remember ever sleeping well. Even when he was a kid, he’d been prone to waking up in the middle of the night, especially if his parents had gone into the city for the evening. He’d pad down the hall to the living room and turn on the TV, put on a sitcom and turn the volume down low. Sometimes he’d go back to sleep on the couch, and sometimes he’d just wait for his parents to come home. After Sloane was born, Teagan was usually the one to get up and feed her if she woke up after midnight. He’d get her bottle mixed and prop her in the crook of his arm so they could watchFrazierreruns together. They’d both liked that. But she got better at sleeping through the night, eventually, and he never did.
When he got older, he started to worry about being tired the next day. He acquired more responsibilities, and he thought about them while he was awake at night. He tried harder to go back to sleep when he woke up, which was usually counterproductive. Lying in bed and wishing he could sleep was not a pleasant way to pass the time, so he started taking melatonin, dialing up his cardio routine, and investing in a mattress that advertised a number of ultimately specious health claims. Nothing had really worked.
Then there had been that month on Lexapro where he’d wanted to sleepall the time.That was weeks past now.
Now he woke up in the night again, but he didn’t mind it at all. He’d roll out of bed silently to avoid jostling Darcy, then go back down the hall without turning on any lights. The big windows in the front of the house admitted plenty of light from outside, even in the middle of the night. Teagan would get a glass of water and admire what he saw: Darcy’s boots tossed carelessly in the middle of the entryway. A peanut butter-covered spoon in the sink. Her jacket draped across a kitchen chair.
