“You mean you and me, that we…that’ll be solid, and the external things that happen, like torched apartments, lost jobs, or classmates who go into protective custody, those are things we’d deal with together.”
I grinned at him.
More headshaking, like I was nuts and none of this made sense. “You think you know me, and that’s just not––”
“You’re like a crab,” I stated.
“Oh, I can’t wait to hear this,” he said drolly.
“No, seriously. You take one step forward and two back, and then one sideways and one to the other side, and it’s like you’re moving in circles, when the fact of the matter is you’re terrified to trust me, but at the same time, you want to.”
He didn’t confirm my observation, but it wasn’t necessary. It only made sense that he was nervous. There were very few people who had not let him down in his lifetime. Most of the time he believed in the worst-case scenario, and that was almost always what unfolded. To insist that he have faith in me this soon was ludicrous. What I wanted was for him to give me time to show him my heart.
We were quiet for a few minutes, and I could sense how uncomfortable he was, so I crossed to the window to look out at the now dark sky and give him a moment.
“This is crazy, right?”
I looked over my shoulder at him. “Us, you mean?”
“Yeah.”
Shrugging, I went back to gazing out at the lights in the distance. “I think weird things have happened to us in a very short time, but if even one thing hadn’t happened, or had happened differently—if you had come back to the hotel like you said you wanted to—I feel strongly that I would have pushed you to make plans with me even if you thought I was insane. It’s what I wanted, and I’m not afraid to tell you that.”
“I would have asked to make plans too,” he husked.
I pivoted to face him, stood there and smiled at him. “Then tell me what’s bothering you. Let’s fix it and move forward, and stop second-guessing anything else.”
He stared at me, and I held his gaze but said nothing. Finally, he shrugged his wide shoulders. “I don’t get you.”
“How do you mean?”
“You’re successful and gorgeous…so what the hell’re you doing here with me?”
I stayed silent.
“No, I don’t mean it like I’m so pathetic or whatever, but c’mon, Cam, what would your parents think about you slumming with someone like me?”
“And what about you, precisely, constitutes slumming?”
He turned away, and I went about the task of cleaning up dinner, waiting for his answer.
“So what’s the plan for the morning?”
Okay. Apparently we were changing the topic.
“Well, I have a couple of apartments for us to look at, and––”
“Wait. I gotta ask something else first.”
I had the urge to throttle him. I suspected if things worked out between us, it would not be for the last time.
He opened his mouth, started, stopped, and then sat up straighter in bed, wincing a bit as he made himself comfortable again. “When we talked on the phone—I was so out of it I can’t—do you remember what I said?”
“I recall every word.”
“Every word, huh?”
I gave him the slightest nod.
“Like what, for instance?”
Crossing my arms, I tilted my head as I waited for whatever this was to pass.
“What?”
He got a shrug in response.
“What did I say?” he pressed me.
I went with the least uncomfortable first. “You agreed that I could fix the situation you’re currently in, the most pressing at the moment being to find you an apartment in Sacramento, a new job closer to school, and to rearrange your schedule at The Mission.”
“Oh. Okay.” He seemed relieved there had been no apparent baring of his soul.
I waited, and after several minutes, during which time he fidgeted with the tray table and the covers and the IV line, he finally met my gaze.
“Shit, there was more.”
“I’m aware that you know exactly what you said, Jeremiah,” I began, my tone a bit cooler than I intended, but he was being ridiculous, and I needed to make sure he understood this. “Your whole ‘I was so out of it I don’t recall’ act is crap.”
He was silent a moment, and I saw the muscles in his jaw clench and the tendons in his neck cord as he dealt with, I suspected, a bit of panic over the idea that he had shown me his hand, which he always, without fail, played close to the