I start to say something else in denial of this, but Kit has nodded off. I should let him sleep. He needs it. I shift so my feet are on the floor of the train and put my arm around him, pulling him in so his head rests on my shoulder. We’re not too far from our stop.
My poor traumatized man.
There’s so much to figure out. He said it himself. He’s legally dead. And he only died ten years ago, so most if not all of the people he once knew are still around. If he chooses to see his family and friends again, how will he explain how he looks the exact same he did ten years ago? Because he does. He looks the same as the day he died, a thirty-six-year-old in a twenty-six-year-old’s body. The dream, right? Also, what is he expecting of me? Something is happening between us, but like, is he expecting I’ll just let him move in? Because…why does that not sound like a terrible idea? No, no. It’s a terrible idea. I’ll let him stay, of course. For as long as he needs, but what then? We need to have a conversation about what exactly is going on.
I don’t have time to think about that right now. We pull into our stop, and I rouse him awake. He lumbers after me like a toddler awoken from a nap as we exit onto the platform.
I grab his hand and guide him to my car so I can drive us back to my apartment. When wearrive, I take him inside, locking the door behind us, then I pull him to my bedroom.
“Right to it, then,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows, but the teasing is interrupted by a long yawn.
I give him an amused look. “You’re going to bed.”
But once we get into my room, I pause, wrapping my arms around him. My head rests on his chest as I consume his warm. His arms immediately encompass me, chin propped on the top of my head. We stand there entwined with one another for a while, breathing each other in, proving once again that he is real.
When I can manage, I pull away and push him down onto the bed hard enough to bounce on his landing. I yank his shoes off one after the other, tossing them to the corner of my bedroom. I move for his pants next, unbuttoning, but Kit places a hand over mine.
“I can actually handle this bit.” He draws down the zipper and wiggles out of the pants, tossing them in the corner with the shoes.
I gnaw my lip. I am such a goner. That wiggle washot.
He gets under the covers, settling himself in. “Joining me?” he asks as I stand above him.
I check the time. “It’s six p.m., so no.” I lean down and press a kiss to his forehead, my fingers tracing his hair. “Get some sleep, kitten. You need it.”
His eyes are already closed. “I don’t have time to sleep,” he grumbles. With a heavy sigh, he flips on his side and pulls the covers up around himself, but continues to mumble, hardly audible. “I have things to do. I gotta get to California and get my life back on track.”
There’s a pinch in my chest. He’s planning on going home.Of course, he is. Why would he stay here with me? I shake my head. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that he’s alive. That’s all I was trying to accomplish, and here it is. Hereheis.
It doesn’t take him long to drift off. Hazel makes her way into my room and, apparently thoroughly unbothered by the strange man in my bed, hops up on the bed herself, nestling in the crook beside Kit’s bent legs.
The extra charm I bought from that store in Manhattan is sitting on my nightstand. I know Kit put his name on that mystical list, but better safe than sorry. I loop the bracelet around his wrist and press another kiss to his forehead before I leave the room, switching the light off as I go and closing the door.
I’m unsure what to do with myself. Do I just sit out here and wait for him to wake up? No. That would be ridiculous. What I should do is go grocery shopping. All I have in my pantry is uncooked pasta and two apples. I don’t even have sauce for the pasta.
I go back to my bedroom to peek in at Kit to make sure he’s still asleep and find him resting solidly. I leave a note on the kitchen counter in case he awakens before my return.
I have no idea what kind of food he likes, so when I depart the grocery store, it feels like I purchased too much. As I exit the lot, I find myself bypassing the road back to my apartment and heading to a strip mall. I run into a store to pick up a men’s razor and some shaving cream. I don’t know for sure that Kit wants to shave his beard, but this will be nice to have if he does. I pass by the men’s clothing section and end up walking out ofthe store with two new packs of underwear, five T-shirts, three pairs of pants, and a nice button-down.
When I get home, I sneak back into my bedroom to find him still asleep. Hazel wakes up and eyes me, daring me to disturb her new best friend. I leave again, closing the door.
I fuck around my apartment, putting the flowers he got me in a vase, making dinner, watching TV on a low volume, checking my email for word from the contest even though I know not to expect anything, until it reaches a late enough hour that I can justify going to bed. I decide to take a shower first.
Afterward, I sneak back into the room wrapped in my robe to find Kit thrashing around under the covers. I rocket to his side of the bed and put my hands on him, gently stroking my fingers through his hair.
“Kit,” I say as soothingly as possible. “Kitten. Shhh. Shh. Wake up. You’re having a bad dream.”
His eyes fly open, panicked, but he relaxes when he sees me. “Lacy.”
My fingers still stroke over his hair. “It’s me. I’m here.”
He sits up and rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands. I loop around the bed so I can climb in, ignoring the fact that I’m still only in my robe. I wrap my arms around him, and he settles back into the bed, head resting on my chest. Hazel is now hiding under the bed, I’m sure.
“Bad dream?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he whispers. “I don’t remember it when I’m awake, but when I’m asleep…”
“You mean Hell?” I ask quietly.
