Her shoulders loosen a little. “Okay?”
“I came prepared for you to be difficult.”
That gets me a smile.
I grab the small purple device from my bag and press it into her palm. It’s disguised in a cover that makes it look like some harmless little cosmetic thing. She turns it over, frowning.
“What is this?”
“It’s a compromise.”
I take it back, slide off the cover, and press the safety with my thumb. A sharp crackle jumps the air between the prongs.
Nat jerks. “Jesus.”
“Mini stun gun. If somebody grabs you, hit the button, and stick it where it’ll hurt. Neck. Gut. Ribs if that’s what you can reach. Anywhere works.”
She studies it with that focused little crease between her brows that I’m stupidly obsessed with. “This won’t kill anyone?”
I shrug. “Don’t go around tasing senior citizens with pacemakers, and you’re probably fine.”
She huffs out a laugh. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet.” I close her fingers over it. “You like me anyway.”
She sighs and slides it into her bag.
Good. Now maybe I only spend the rest of the night imagining ten different ways this goes bad instead of fifty.
She shoulders her bag and faces me, and this is the part I’m garbage at. The goodbye. Every time feels like reaching into my chest and handing her something I won’t get back.
I pull her in. She presses her forehead against my sternum, and for three seconds, neither of us pretends this is fine.
“You call me,” I tell her. “Anything feels off, anything moves wrong, you call and I’ll get you out.”
“I know.”
“I mean it. Don’t be reckless.”
She pulls back, and her eyes are steady but her mouth is set in a way that tells me she’s already thinking about her father’s office.
“I’ll be smart,” she says. “I promise.”
There’s a tightness under my skin I can’t shake. No reason for it, exactly. Just the ugly certainty that every time I let her walk away from me, something bad is waiting on the other side of it.
I cup the back of her neck. “When you get back, text me.”
“I will.”
“Immediately.”
“Yes, bossy.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know.” Her gaze holds mine. “I’ll text.”
I kiss her once. Then again because once is a stupid number. The second one lingers. Her hand presses flat against and stays there a second after we break apart, like she’s feeling the shape of me through my shirt so she can take it with her.
