Page 118 of Parting Shot

“There’s someone else on the surveillance too.”

“Oh? Who?”

“Nick McCall.”

I groaned loudly. “Are you kidding?”

“No.”

“I totally bought it. The whole concerned-friend thing. Fuck, I’m an idiot.”

“You were a horny idiot,” he said playfully, kissing my right eye closed because I was turned that way. “Lucky I didn’t let you fall into his clutches.”

“Yeah, because hanging out with you is so much safer.”

He laughed, and so did I, even though it hurt.

We could drink water and pee. The problem was, after three days, we would need food. I also suspected from the way I was losing time, that my head was in worse shape than I thought.

“You have a serious concussion,” Aaron assured me. “You get beat up too often.”

No argument there.

“Hey,” I began, watching as he continued to type. “I wanna tell you about my juvenile records, if you still want to hear.”

“Yes, please.” He cupped my face, giving me all his attention.

“Check on the door real fast.”

“There are only maybe five men out there now. The rest of them went with Wells to walk around the grounds. Maybe they’re looking for a rocket launcher.”

“What?”

“Or a bazooka.”

“Really?”

“Would a flamethrower help?”

“You’re not funny.”

“I’m a little funny,” he said, sliding his thumb over my eyebrow. “You know, if I haven’t said it enough, you are just beautiful.”

“You’re biased. I’m yours, so you gotta think I’m pretty.”

He stiffened.

“What?”

“You belong with me.”

“We already settled that.”

“No. I mean …” He took a breath. “When we get home, just move in.”

“If we get home.”

“No. When.”