Page 56 of 'Til All the Seas Run Dry

He made his way down into the vault, closing the door behind him and locking it out of habit. He grabbed his laptop and climbed onto the bed, his back resting against the pillows and headboard. He sent a few messages to friends in the biotechnology field and sent a text to Robbie telling him that he was back and going to bed early and would see him the next night.

Then he stared at his laptop. Wondering what to call this new little baby of theirs. Before he quite realized it, his phone was in his hand, and he had created a new text message to Jory. There was no way she was awake. Not at this hour between the middle of the night and the wee hours of morning.

In the before, as he’d come to think of it, she’d been the last person he’d spoken to every night and the first person he greeted every morning. His heart ached to think that he’d never see her like that again, with the rising sun casting purple shadows over her sleeping face, her eyelashes fluttering as she dreamed in the hazy, morning light.

He yawned, wishing that he could lay in bed with her, their heads on pillows, talking about the day before falling asleep. As they’d done so many times. As he’d missed ever since.

I missed you.

“Fuck,” he whispered to the empty room. Why had he sent that? She didn’t want him to think about her. Not like that. She’d made that perfectly clear. They werejust friends.

But he was trying to woo her. He wanted her to stay and he’d never get there with nonchalance. Still, he could have split the difference between the two. He was typing another message when he saw the three dots that indicated her typing a reply.

Why are you texting me at 4:30 in the morning, Callum?

Why was he texting her at four thirty in the morning? That was an excellent question.Because I want to tell you about this new project. Because I want to hear about your day. Because I want to hear your voice and this is the next best thing.

Instead, he typed:

Why are you awake at 4:30 in the morning?

I swim.

She didn’t offer anything else. He bit his lip, feeling the sharp sting of his fangs.

You always did like to swim.

A fact that made all the more sense now.

I have to go.

Callum sighed. This would never work. He climbed out of the bed and took off the sweatshirt and joggers he’d worn to go hunting with Nat, dropping them carelessly in a dirty clothes pile in the corner. He tossed his phone onto the bed and dragged his hands down his face before raking them through his hair, pulling on the ends.

He flipped off the lights and made to crawl into bed when his phone vibrated and the screen lit up. He quickly unlocked his phone and blinked down at his messages.

I missed you too.

19

Jory had tried on fifteen different outfits. She glanced at her watch. Five twenty-three. Callum would pick her up at seven which, she assumed, really meant six forty-five. After pacing around her apartment all afternoon like a caged leopard, she had finally called Esther.

“I’m spinning, Esther. Would you mind?—”

But in typical Esther fashion, Jory hadn’t even gotten the full sentence out of her mouth before her friend was interrupting excitedly, “I’m on my way right now!”

Three minutes later, there was a knock at Jory’s door. Esther drove like a maniac, but even for her that was fast. But when Jory opened the door, it wasn’t Esther across the threshold.

“Robbie? What are you doing here?”

Robbie shifted nervously, scuffing the toe of one boot against the wood of her small landing.

“I brought you something.”

Jory blinked at him for a moment before coming back to herself. “Come in.”

He slipped through the door and stood in the kitchen with the handles of a paper sack clenched in his tattooed fist. He looked around, and she watched as he took in the yarn hangings and open shelves of stoneware and pottery that she’d collected from various artists over the years.

“What can I do for you, Robbie?”