Indigo. He’s back.
The door swings open, and Jasper stumbles through. He’s looking right at me, and he sits down with breathless anticipation.
“Morgan?”
I stab a finger at him. “You asshole.” Whether he’s right or not, I’m not feeling very charitable toward him right now.
“Do you remember?” He leans in.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Vee stands above us.
“We’re leaving,” I say, pushing up from my seat. Jasper’s with me in a heartbeat as I hurry toward the door.
“What about your laptop?” Vee says. I spin on one heel and stride back to grab my computer, along with my coat hung over the back of the chair. I don’t make eye contact. Jasper is waiting by the entrance, and he follows wordlessly as I step out into the street.
I wait at the intersection until the bus rumbles by. When Jasper goes to speak, I hold up my hand, silently telling him to wait. When the illuminated man says walk, we do. Safely.
As we approach the parking lot, Jasper is walking ahead of me, making a beeline for my SUV.
“How do you know which one is mine?” I ask.
“Date fourteen,” he says. “I tried to explain then, but you wouldn’t listen. Nearly ran me over with your car trying to get away.”
“That’s still an option now,” I say, but I press the fob and unlock all the doors. My fully electric Range Rover has flush door handles that the average person struggles to find on the first try, but Jasper doesn’t even hesitate. He swings it open, slides inside, and is shutting the door again before I’m halfway in.
“You remember?” he says into the dark interior once I’ve closed my door too.
I remember the horror of finding Indigo in Ezekiel’s office. The pain of my body shutting down. Again. The further pain of the bus accident. But now is not the time for breathless confessions. It’s time for questions.
“What the fuck is going on?”
His eyes widen. “Did you die? How? I’m never sure?—”
I press my palm to his mouth. “No. No. My turn for answers. Tell me what is happening.”
The interior of the car gets quiet. A few guys—the same ones I used to fend off Jasper yesterday (today? How do you tell time like this?) stumble out of the diner.
Behind my hand, Jasper smiles widely, and I realize what I’ve done. In another life, he might kiss my hand. Oh my god. What if hehaskissed my hand already? If you can kiss on the first date, surely we’ve kissed on the sixtieth? And I don’t remember?
I can’t cope with that. It’s too much. To have kissed someone who looks like Jasper and not remember it is worse than—Well, okay, that’s not true. Getting killed in quick succession by an environmentally friendly transit vehicle and a supervillain are worse than forgetting about kissing a cute guy. So much worse.
“Start at the beginning,” I say, trying to slow my breathing.
“Alyssa said we should meet.”
“Alyssa? What does she have to do with any of this?”
“You said to start at the beginning. Alyssa and I went to medical school together. She and your friend Clarissa thought?—”
“This is about the date?” My voice rises. “I don’t care about who thought we would be good together. I care about the fact that I died last night and the night before, and yet here we are. And anyway, medical school? I thought you were some kind of goon, not a doctor?”
His lips thin. “I dropped out.”
Great, so he’s a slacker as well as a criminal. What a waste of a cute face.
“Jasper. Focus.” I may be talking to myself on that last part. “Why is this happening?”
“I don’t know!” For the first time, his boyish enthusiasm cracks. He balls his fists up on the dash, and I shrink away, waiting for him to punch something, but instead he turns to me, eyes desperate. “Why would I know any more than you do? Alyssa said I should meet you. I did. It was fine. Eventually you said you had to get back to work. I stuck around, had a couple more drinks. Then I went home and fell asleep, and when I woke up, I was on the sidewalk outside the diner again.”
