The click of the door falling shut brought her heart veering into her throat. She whirled to find Thomas standing just inside, staring intently at the scope in her hand. The line wobbled aimlessly, not pointing north at all, but instead just inside her shoulder. His eyes darkened. Nervously, she set the compass back on the shelf.
Sorry, she signed.I shouldn’t have touched anything.
“It’s fine,” he said, and cleared his throat. “Sit down. Let’s clean you up.”
I can do it myself.
He gestured to her temple. “It’s going to be a little difficult to patch that up without a reflection.”
It was the closest he’d come to making a joke since arriving at Hudson’s house. Relief cracked through her and she lowered herself onto the bed, tucking her legs up under her. Taking a seat by her side, he flipped open the medical kit and sifted through the contents until he found a sterile pad and tiny vial of saline. Gingerly, he set to cleaning the blood from her face. She held still and let him work, hardly daring to breathe.
Finally, he gently pressed a bit of butterfly tape over the gash in her temple and sat back, regarding his handiwork through the lamplit dark. His throat corded in a careful swallow. In the quiet, she could feel him building up the courage to say something, and she became suddenly terrified of what it might be.
“Vivienne—”
It’s your birthday, she signed, cutting him off.
“It was, yeah.”
You didn’t tell me.
A smile flickered at the corners of his mouth. “I don’t know if you noticed, but we’ve had a lot going on.”
I didn’t get you anything.
“I didn’t expect you to.”
I should have gotten something.Her irritability came through in her syntax—her hand snapped into a circle, index finger jabbing skyward. Thomas placed his hand over hers, stilling her fingers. It was a gesture she was positive he’d meant to be reassuring. Instead, his touch lit a fuse in her blood.
“I mean it. I’m glad you didn’t get me anything.”
She pulled her hand back, quick as a shot.
You do everything for me, she signed, crossing her fists and then letting them fall furiously flat, like it was an accusation. And I’ve done nothing for you.
Something hardened in his expression. “Don’t start that again.”
Start what?
“‘You’ve been so kind to me,’” he mocked, throwing her words from the churchyard back in her face. “This isn’t kindness, Vivienne. I’m not beingniceto you.”
Then what is it?
“You really need me to say it?” His laugh came out short. She heard the click of his swallow. “Fine, I’ll say it. I like you, Vivienne.”
The admission felt like a skipped step on a stair. She launched to her feet.You can’t.
“Well, I do,” he said, rising up after her. “I don’t know why you’re surprised. I thought I’ve been pretty obvious.”
A tremulous silence stretched out between them. Slowly, Thomas stepped into her. When she didn’t balk, he reached for her hands, threading his fingers through hers. The simplicity of it sent an electric current zinging down her spine. Tugging her closer, he tipped his forehead to hers.
“I like you,”he said again, firmer this time.
She looked down at their hands, perfectly entwined between them. How many times had she envisioned this as they sat in silence on the couch, the space between them growing smaller by the day? How many nights had she lain awake wishing she was the sort of person who could love without reservation?
She knew better. She would never be that girl. She pried her hands from his.It doesn’t matter.
His gaze grew turbulent. “What doesn’t matter?
