“Don’t know anything of the kind. I’m betting you could slip through, no problem.”
“Careful, Tate. That kind of sounded like a compliment.”
“If it’s a compliment, then how come you’re backing away?”
She honestly hadn’t realized she was. It just seemed to be a reflex when it came to him. He started talking, and suddenly she was doing her best to escape. In fact, she was sort of surprised she hadn’t already. The fire escape was barely three feet behind her. He was still sitting on the step, and didn’t seem inclined to move.
Running would have been easy, yet still she stayed.
And talked. God, they were doing a lot of talking. More than they’d ever done, and most of it so lighthearted she couldn’t wrap her head around the words.
They made her want to laugh and puke at the same time.
“I’m not backing away. I’m just naturally leaving in an ordinary manner.”
“Call me crazy, but I’m pretty sure you usually leave facing forward.”
“I was just about to turn. You didn’t give me a chance.”
“So…do you need like total silence or…?”
“That would be a start.”
“And maybe I should close my eyes.”
“Sure, why not?” she said.
Though she didn’t expect him to really do it.
Or to stay that way for what seemed like forever.
She almost took a step toward him before she remembered who he was and what he was capable of.
“Like I’m going to fall for that old trick.”
“Closing your eyes is a trick now?”
“You’ll open them just as I think I’m out. And then…grab my legs.”
“I’m not some creature hiding under your bed. At least let me grab your shoulder.”
“And then what? Let me guess: you decapitate me.”
“I was thinking more like…patting you reassuringly. Though I guess I could pat too hard with my giant meat hooks and accidentally dislodge your head. How well is it attached to your neck?”
“Hard to tell. Getting hit by a truck probably loosened it a little.”
Silence fell after that, though it wasn’t the sort she was used to. There was no sense of waiting for some terrible punch line, no hint of mischief in his eyes. If anything, his eyes had gotten softer—as though those words had hit him there and left a bruise.
“Letty, I—” he started.
But she cut him off before he could finish.
“I know you carried me.”
“I wasn’t keeping that a secret from you, if that’s what you mean.”
“No, that wasn’t what I meant. I meant…you know. Gratitude.”
