Chapter 6
Ican’t eat. Harlin’s talking about how he’d driven all over the city looking for me, and I’m holding a greasy slice of cheese pizza, but I’m not listening. I’m staring out the window at the blinking Gold’s Gym sign, only the’sis out, so it says: Gold. Gold. Gold.
I turn my head from side to side, trying to loosen the muscles in my neck. The Vicodin has made sounds echo in my ears and I’m starting to feel sleepy. I glance across the booth at Harlin and he’s still talking, using his hands to accentuate how frantic he was during the search. And I smile because right now I have no Need. Just him.
“Hey,” I whisper. He pauses, his eyes bloodshot, his mouth open. I just stare at him until he laughs and leans back in his seat, shaking his head.
“You’re a handful, you know that, right? You make me completely crazy.”
“I know,” I say, and take a bite of pizza. “I make myself crazy.”
“I’m not gonna just let this slide, Charlotte. Not this time. You have to tell me where you were going tonight.”
I reach up to touch at my stitches, no idea how to answer. Sometimes I think it’d be worth losing him, just so I didn’t have to worry about losing him. But I know I can’t live without Harlin. I meet his eyes.
“I was checking out an old warehouse on Broadway,” I say. “I saw the flyer in Plato’s and I heard they were remodeling the building.”
“What does that have to do with you?”
“Nothing. I... I thought maybe it’d be something you’d want to be involved with. Some original artwork for the lobby or something?”
Harlin looks me over like he’s trying to decide if I’m telling the truth. “You don’t mention anything to me? You just sneak out?”
“That was stupid. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry,” he repeats calmly. “I spent the night looking for you, completely freaking out. But you’re sorry. That’s nice, Charlotte.” He goes back to eating his pizza, no longer looking at me.
I’m so tired that I feel like I could just confess everything to him. The nights I’ve been out. The things I’ve seen. The people I’ve saved.
Harlin’s face is hard, but then he looks me over and his eyes weaken. It’s like he just remembered I’m injured.
“Damn,” he says. “I’m an ass.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I am. I’m sorry.”
I know that I’m the one who should be apologizing, but I take a bite of pizza instead. I just want to forget about today.
“How’s your head?” Harlin asks, the softness of his voice making me melt a little.
“Hurty.”
“And your legs?”
I smile. “Bruisy.”
Harlin’s foot touches mine, and heat shoots up my leg. I’d forgotten what we were doing just before I’d left his apartment. I bite my bottom lip and narrow my eyes. I want him. He reacts, taking in a breath, and then blows it out with frustration.
“Completely crazy,” he says with a laugh. “And we’re not...” He motions to my body, then groans longingly. “Not when you have stitches in your head.”
“I’ll have them for, like, two weeks.”
He freezes, looks around the pizza place and then back to me. “Two weeks?”
“Uh-huh.”
“All right, Charlotte,” he orders, nodding toward my food. “Hurry up with that pizza. I’m not going home until I finish kissing you.”
