Page 95 of After the Snap

To coming over, smartass.

Yes. I’ll come over.

Before I can do more than stare at the words, another message comes through.

I miss you too, Old Man.

Those four words hit harder than I expect. A few minutes ago, I was wondering if telling her the truth would expose a difference between us I wasn’t ready to see, but she misses me. Whatever has been growing between us for the last few weeks matters to her when we’re apart too.

Tomorrow?

Tomorrow. Try to contain your excitement until then.

I know she misses me, but tomorrow, she’ll be back in my condo because we both chose to spend the little free time we have together. What I don’t know is how long I’m willing to keep calling that enough when I’m starting to want something neither of us has been brave enough to name.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Jubal

Calliope barely gives me enough time to open the door before she shoves an overstuffed tote against my chest.

“Hold this.”

I take it automatically, mostly because I’m too busy looking at her to question why the damn thing weighs twenty pounds. I missed her. I already admitted that much yesterday, but having her standing in front of me makes me realize how much I’ve been waiting for her to get here.

“Hello to you too.”

“Hi.”

Her smile comes right before she leans in and kisses me, warm and familiar enough that I follow her mouth when she pulls away. She ducks under my arm before I can steal another one, already kicking off her shoes as she heads inside like there was never any question whether I’d let her in.

“You know, most people say hello before barging into someone’s home.”

“I kissed you first.”

I laugh as she drops onto the couch and sets her bag on the coffee table before following her. This isn’t the first time she’s been back since our date, and she stopped waiting for me to tell her where to sit or asking if it was okay to leave her shoes by the door a while ago. She knows which end of the couch she likes and that I’ll eventually feed her no matter how many times she insists she isn’t hungry.

There’s something about watching Calliope settle into my condo without wondering whether she belongs here that gets to me. I like that she knows where she wants to sit. I like that her shit is already taking up half my coffee table. I like that she walked through my door expecting there to be a place for her because I’ve done a good enough job of showing her there is one.

Calliope looks up at me. “Are you going to stand there staring at me all day?”

“I’m considering it.” I finally cross the room and sit beside her.

“I came over because you missed me.”

I should regret admitting that to her, especially with how pleased she looks every time she gets to remind me, but I don’t. Missing Calliope doesn’t feel like something I need to protect myself from when she keeps showing up after I tell her I want her here.

“You’re never going to let me forget I said that, are you?”

“Absolutely not.”

Her stomach growls loudly enough that I hear it from beside her, and she presses a hand against it before glaring down at herself. “Rude.”

“When did you eat?”

“I had a granola bar at some point.”

I wait because there has to be more than that, but Calliope suddenly finds something across the room fascinating enough to avoid looking at me. Of course, there isn’t.