“It was the rain. There was a speck of dust. I yawned. I forgot to blink.”
“All of those things, too. Nothing you ever need to explain.”
“Maybe thereisnothing to explain.”
“I can believe that for you, also.”
“You can?”
She looked back at him, eventhough her face was wet.
But goodgod, he didn’t make her regret it.
“We met just now, right here. There was never anything before this. I made a crack about the self-defense class, and you made one back. Then I told you that I had some expertise in that area, and you said that it sounded like just what you needed. So, I tell you that I will teach you everything you want to know, for as long as you want, in whatever place you decide. And you say—”
“I’m ready when you are.”
Chapter Four
She suggested the dance studio, right next door to the meetings. Every Tuesday, so she could tell Letty she was going to therapy. So she could avoid hearing that this was a bad idea, even though she knew it was. She had no idea who he was, not really. She didn’t even know his name.
He could have been a maniac.
Maybe all he wanted to do was hurt her, too.
But god, he made that idea very hard to believe. That closed expression of his shifted, the second he saw her walking towards him over the grass outside the studio. It opened just a little, like a tensed fist loosening when someone kind puts a hand over it. And though it was gone in an instant, it was arresting to see.Andso was the other thing she noticed, the second she got close.
He went out of his way to walk in front of her. Not behind her, not at her side—directly in front, so she could see every single move he made before he made it. There were no jarring surprises with him. He didn’t sneak up and grab her arm, oblivious. He didn’t make her need to constantly watch him.
Even though she could see it kind of killed him to do things this way. He kept checking over his shoulder, just as she would have done with someone behind her. His body tensed every time her shoe scuffed against the sidewalk.
Yet, he carried on anyway.
And that wasn’t even the best thing.
No, the best thing wasin the tiny room they had commandeered.
It was basically a smaller version of the studio next door, every part of it falling to pieces and as freezing as its sister.Two windows were broken in this one, andthe floor was even filthier. It looked like it hadn’t been cleaned for a thousand years.
But that was absolutely fine.
Because he had brought mats.
He had patched up those broken windows—she could see he had. There was a roll of electrical tape on a chair beneath them, and a pair of scissors. The bag they had come from stood next to them, open. Nobody would have left that stuff here, in a room no one used.
Though she was too stunned not to ask, anyway.“Did you do that? Did you do all of this?”
“You say that like it’s a huge deal to bring a couple of mats and tape a window.”
“It is a huge deal when you’re doing a massive favor for a complete stranger.”
He tilted his head, like a shrug without the shoulders. “I wouldn’t call it a massivefavor. Or you a complete stranger.”
“We’ve had two conversations. And neither of them included our names.”
“Your name is Lydia. Lydia Palmer.”
“Okay, soyouknowmyname. Somehow.”
