"Who said I was joking?"
The doors closed on his grin.
We descended in silence.
When we reached the lobby, Vance let out a breath that seemed to come from deep in his chest.
"That," he said, "was terrifying."
"But not terrible?"
"No." He took my hand as we walked toward the exit. "Not terrible."
We stepped out into the night. The city was quieter than usual, the street mostly empty.
"Thank you," I said as we reached the car. "For that. I know it wasn't easy."
"It was worth it." His voice was rough. "You're worth it."
He unlocked the car, but before getting in, he looked at me across the roof.
"Your dad threatened to have me disappeared," he said. "Twice, if we're counting your brother."
"That's how Langford men show affection."
"Rich people are deeply disturbing."
But he was almost smiling. When we got in the car, he reached across the console to take my hand and held it the whole way home.
We drove in comfortable silence.
The city gave way to suburbs, suburbs to countryside. The lights dimmed. The stars came out.
"Your family's not so bad," Vance said eventually.
"They're trying."
"Your mom's nice. Your brother's funny." A pause. "Your dad's terrifying."
"He liked you."
"He has a strange way of showing it."
I laughed. Really laughed, the kind that came from somewhere deep. Vance glanced at me, and his mouth curved up at the corners.
"There it is," he said softly.
"What?"
"That laugh. The first time I heard it, I knew I was in trouble."
"Romantic again. Who are you and what have you done with Vance Kessler?"
"Shut up."
But his hand tightened on mine. When we finally pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building, our apartment building, he didn't let go.
"Hey." I waited until he looked at me. "I meant what I said. You're family now. Whatever that means, whatever it looks like, you're mine."
