“I’m sorry. You really don’t have to worry about me,” he mumbles, resting his chin on my head. “I’m not going to kill myself.”
I turn my head to the side, so my face isn’t so squashed. The steady thump-thump of his heart fills my ear through the layer of clothing. He’s warm, crazy warm—a living, breathing thing. My throat tightens unbearably.
I tip my head back. “Wouldn’t someone whowasgoing to kill themselves also say that?”
He steps back, laughing, and runs his hands up his face. The loss of his solid weight is like a physical ache. He shakes his head as his lips twist. “Such a funny girl,” he says. “I don’t feel like that about what happened anymore. That meal tonight was so much bullshit. Jane’s a lunatic.”
Relief bursts through me. “Your mom said a few things when she got home.”
“What did she say?”
“That Jane brought Kevin along and that she couldn’t believe how she talked to you, what she said about you.”
He laughs again. “That’s about the size of it. While Jane was talking about her plans with Kevin this evening, I realized I just didn’t care. I don’t know when I stopped feeling bad, but somehow …” He trails off again, and I shiver as he turns and leans on the steel railing, staring out across the river and the lights of the office buildings, all lit up like gigantic Christmas trees. I lean next to him as he tells me everything they said, and Jane’s insistence that they were just friends. My mouth drops open, eyes riveted on his face.
He’s been looking out over the water as he talks, but now he twists toward me and smiles at my expression. “Incredible, huh?”
“I came to find you because the last thing you said to your dad was that you’d wasted the last twelve years of your life, and I got worried that …”
He squeezes my arm. “I’m okay, Sadie. Honestly. Jane absolutely is not worth that. Things are so much better now: Des’s apartment, you, Mr. Karen.”
Me?
“I can understand why you feel like you’ve thrown away all that time,” I mumble.
“Yes, and that’s on her. I wanted to rant and rave at my dad in the bar, but I knew, if I started, I’d go on for hours. I couldn’t do that to him, so I went for a walk. I feel like such a fool. She pulled the wool over my eyes, and everyone else’s.”
“Christ. Some women are crazy, especially with men. I’ve never understood it. I remember a lot of them in high school,” I say.
He wraps an arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side. Then he turns his head, and his glasses bump my face as he kisses my temple.
“You’re amazing, Sadie. Thank you for coming out here, for caring enough to chase after me.”
“I hope you don’t mind that I tracked you down.”
He laughs. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve never been so pleased to see someone running toward me.”
His teeth worry his lower lip for a second. “Can I ask you something? Is this why you’ve been hanging out with me? All this time, you’ve felt obliged to do what Des asked?”
He tips his head down to look at me, and his face is right there, lips inches from mine. I can see where he shaved this morning. If I stretched up a little, I could put my mouth on his.
“Not at all.” I hesitate. What can I say here that won’t be awfully revealing? “I like you, James.”
His eyes roam all over my face, tracking across my no doubt rosy cheeks to my lips. “I like you too, Sadie,” he whispers.
I’ve got so used to standing close to him now—comparing books, cooking, chatting about software—that I can even meet his eyes, and they’re soft behind his glasses, warm and kind, all fully focused on me, like I’m someone important, like he’s asking me a vital question. Then he tips his head down and brushes his mouth over mine.
Chapter 24
James
Ever since she arrived panting onto the bridge, Sadie’s been watching me with a crease in the middle of her forehead, her gray eyes huge. Her lips are a blush of color, and her tongue sweeps over them as pink climbs up her cheeks. I groan to myself, even as I lean closer and her eyes flutter shut. Her lips part as I brush my mouth across hers.So soft.A current zips through me as all my muscles tighten. She tastes sweet, like apples, and I ease in a little farther for another sweep. Her hands land on my biceps, each finger pressing in.
Her eyes pop open and stare straight into mine, gray and pale: They’re mesmerizing. They’re kind and concerned and … My body throbs. “Should I stop?” I whisper.
“I don’t know,” she whispers back.
“This is probably the worst idea ever.”
