Page 44

“Because—”

“Is it because you’re afraid of scaring her, or because you’ve decided that telling her things counts as using the bond as leverage, even though it doesn’t? Those are completely different⁠—”

“Pike.”

“I’m asking.”

“Both.”

Pike wrote this in his notebook, treating it like an important official record. He glanced at Maelin. Maelin, silent for the last couple of minutes and holding back something to say, finally found his moment and leaned forward, ready to contribute.

“There’s actual research on this,” Maelin said, “about repeated low-stakes contact as a way to⁠—”

“Did you read research on this?” Pike stopped writing.

“It was a broad survey.”

“You read papers on how to make someone fall in love with you.”

“Proximity, shared experience, emotional disclosure⁠—”

“Maelin.”

“It’s peer reviewed.”

Pike looked at Drayce as if he’d just witnessed an unexpected natural phenomenon. “He read papers.” He opened to a fresh page. “What did they say?”

“Consistent, low-pressure interactions over time, along with mutual challenges and sharing, foster⁠—”

“You’ve been doing all of that,” Pike said to Drayce. “Training. The walk.”

“How long?” Maelin turned.

“Since the week after the boardwalk.” Pike held his pen steady. “Every three days. I cross-referenced the delivery log.”

Maelin sat back. “That’s exactly the interval the studies recommend.”

Pike pointed at him. “Instinct and research. Aligned.” He looked at Drayce. “You’re already doing the right things. Use your words too.”

“I use words.”

“When was the last time you told her something true about yourself that wasn’t tactically necessary?”

Drayce’s mind went to the bench. Cemented in the wrong place because it faced west and he worked nights. He’d told her that without meaning to.

“The bench.”

“What bench?”

“I built one. In the wrong place. She stopped walking when I told her.”

“She stopped walking when you mentioned a badly positioned bench?” Pike asked.

“And a shelf in the library. Leans three degrees. She laughed. A real one.”

Pike looked at Maelin. Maelin looked at Pike.

The notebook was pulled out again. Pike concentrated deeply as he wrote for a few moments, then carefully capped the pen. “Tell her about the shelf, about all the shelves. Every little flaw in this house. Just watch what unfolds.”