Night In A Waste Land (Hell Theory #2) - Lauren Gilley Page 0,53

but he didn’t seem to know you existed before you got hurt.” She hated even saying it, but if Tris was indulging Gallo out of guilt, if he wasn’t sincere, he was going to have to reckon with her.

Gallo didn’t seem bothered. His smile was soft, and fond, and reflective. “No, it’s not just guilt. He’s – well, I wear my heart on my sleeve, everybody knows that. But Tris is more guarded. He knew I existed.” He sounded sure, and she supposed she had to take his word for it. “But he’s buried a lot of people in his career. I think he was afraid of getting too close, and then…” His metal fingers tapped along the bench, eloquent of all that could happen when you got too close in this line of work.

“He’s a secret romantic, huh?”

“He’s…God, Rose.” His sigh was positively lovestruck. “You have no idea. He’s so…so.”

She could feel the bitter edges of her smile. “I know the feeling.”

His brows drew together, concerned. She’d told him about Beck, a little. He at least knew that she mourned him.

But then his expression cleared. “Speaking of feeling…and secret romantics…”

Her face heated immediately. She knew, from the sly twist of his smirk, exactly where this was headed. “Oh, Frankie, don’t.”

“Don’t deny it! He carried you. It was straight out of a movie, I swear.”

“Stop.” But she was chuckling, his glee infectious.

“Carried you in his big, strong arms. How were his pecs?” He pantomimed resting his face on them, cheek cupped in his own hand. “The stuff of dreams?”

“Francis.”

“He’s totally in love with you.” He looked shocked after he’d said it, his brows shooting up. “Shit. I didn’t mean–”

“He is, isn’t he?” Rose wasn’t shocked, not at all. She’d known for a while, even if she was only just now acknowledging it.

Gallo winced. “I know he doesn’t try to be obvious. But tonight was…”

“Yeah.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

He tilted his head. Come on. “Do you like him?”

“He’s a good leader.”

“Rose.”

She sighed, and managed to breathe out some last thread of tension. “Yeah. I do. I don’t–” She bit her lip.

“It doesn’t mean you love Beck any less,” Gallo said, his smile understanding – as understanding as he could be, without crawling inside her head and seeing all the dark clutter there. “Wouldn’t he want you to be happy?”

She gave him an unimpressed look.

“As happy as possible,” he amended. “I mean, obviously, Lance is no Tris–”

She shot him the bird, and then they both laughed.

“He does care about you,” Gallo said, when they’d settled. “I think it might – help you, I guess. Giving him a chance. Just…maybe don’t break his heart. If you can. He’s a good man.”

She nodded. “He is.”

They shared a last smile, and when Gallo stood, and offered a hug, she found herself stepping into, and hugging him back.

“You smell nice,” she said, her face smushed into his bare chest. “Is that vanilla?”

“Tris likes it.”

“Mm. Thanks for the blackmail material.”

They headed down the hall together toward the Walker wing of the barracks, where each of them had their own small, but private room.

Gallo went to Tris’s door, and threw her one last smile over his shoulder before he slipped inside. Rose heard the low rumble of Tris’s voice as the latch engaged.

She was happy for her friend. Her sweet, decent, loyal friend, who’d set out to befriend her when the rest of the cadets wanted to wipe the floor with her. He deserved to get what he wanted. She wondered, with an inward smile, if he’d shown Tris his collection of posters. She thought there might have been an action figure, too.

She turned toward her own door – and stopped with her hand on the latch. Lance was two doors down. The overhead cage lights caught the brass gleam of his name plaque there. Sgt. Lance du Lac, Gold Company.

He wanted her to be sure.

She was.

He was in love with her, Gallo had said.

He was. She knew that.

It felt strange, to be on the flip side of the coin. By the end, she hadn’t questioned Beck’s love and devotion, but at first, before he’d ever caved to her kisses, she’d known that she loved him more.

At least for a while.

Nothing was ever really known, was it?

She took a deep breath, turned, and walked down to Lance’s door. She knocked.

In the ensuing wait, silence reigning from the other side of the door, she doubted – but only a little. She wasn’t sorry for knocking, nor for the offer