Page 160 of ClickBack

“I’ll call them tomorrow,” he says.

Mom opens her mouth.

“Tonight,” he corrects himself. “I’ll put the request in tonight.”

Outside, Graves steps away to check on the car. Mom asks me what time the first meeting starts. I tell her ten.

“You ready?” she asks.

“As I’m going to be.”

She looks at my face, then puts her hand against my cheek the way she did when I was a boy trying to act like something didn’t matter.

“Get some sleep.”

Giselle comes up beside me after saying goodbye to Von. Mom hugs her, holds her a little longer, and tells her she’ll see her tomorrow.

On the ride back, Giselle takes my hand and puts it in her lap. I turn toward her.

“What?”

“Nothing. I wanted it here.”

I settle back with my fingers between hers. Tomorrow, people will ask me what I want from a team. Tonight, I let her keep my hand.

Chapter 29

Giselle

At six seventeen, I reach for my phone and discover Jarrett has it under his pillow.

I remember putting it there myself. It slipped between us last night while I was setting the alarm, and he moved it before I could retrieve it. Apparently, we both decided that was where it lived now.

I ease my hand beneath the pillow. He catches my wrist without opening his eyes.

“What you stealing?”

“My property.”

He lifts his head, lets me get it, and goes back to sleep with my hand still in his. I check the screen awkwardly with my thumb. Nothing needs me. Rae sent a photograph of Zion asleep across her sofa last night, home from Jeremy’s, his cheek flattened against a cushion. I had answered before dinner.

I put the phone on the nightstand.

Jarrett loosens his hold enough for me to turn toward him. His cheek is creased from the pillow. I touch the line with my fingertip, and he opens one eye.

“You looking for something else?”

“No.”

“Then come here.”

I move closer. The room is cool, and he is warm beneath the sheet. I can hear a cart going down the corridor and someone speaking quietly beyond the door. At home, I would already be deciding what I could finish before the house woke up. Here, I have an hour of work to do later and no good reason to begin it early.

“Your mother likes me,” I say.

“She told you that.”

“She told me she would enjoy knowing me. There’s a difference.”