Page 123 of If Only In Our Dreams

“I’m sorry I brought you here,” Robin said immediately, back to being my sad, small little songbird. He picked at the holes on his jeans, shoulders slumped. His sunglasses were still on, shielding his eyes from view.

“Don’t be.” It was easy to reach for him then. Felt as easy as breathing to cross that distance. To kiss him soft and sound and gentle. “I’m so glad I’m here.”

“You are?”

“I am.” His lips felt cold against mine. Icy. I made a quiet sound, coaxing him to open so I could lick inside and warm him up. When I pulled away after several long minutes, Robin was flushed, and his eyes weren’t nearly as hollow. I pulled his sunglasses off and set them safely inside my pocket so I could see him properly.

“I’ve got you,” I promised him, because I did. “I’m here now.” He nodded, a horrible little sound escaping as tears blossomed in his eyes. He squeezed them shut, his whole face pinched. I didn’t make him look at me again, simply slid into the middle seat, buckled up, and pulled him into my side. “What’s your address?” I murmured, listening intently as Robin replied, voice trembling.

“He knows it.”

“Fucking vultures,” the cab driver said in sympathy. Apparently, Robin worked with him often—at least, often enough that the man had his address memorized. As we made our way out of the busy terminal he regaled me with a few adorable but concerning stories about Robin and previous trips just like this. “One time, he dropped his coffee on a handsy guy,” the man laughed, sounding amused. “Accidentally, of course.”

“Good for you,” I hummed, knowing that had not been a fucking accident. Robin may be clumsy, but he wasn’t the kind of clumsy to drop a hot coffee cup.

Robin warmed up the longer he remained tucked against me. I murmured reassurances against his hair, fluttering gentle kisses wherever I could reach as he scrubbed his wet cheeks against my coat.

He was dressed in the clothes I’d bought him. They fit in when he was in Belleville, but out here they felt odd. Like he was an alternate version of the man I’d met all those weeks ago. I hoped they gave him strength the way his sunglasses seemed to.

If I’d thought the airport was bad, the entrance to his apartment was worse.

This time, I was more prepared though, so it went better.

I handed Robin his sunglasses back and he donned them with a grateful smile. It felt like I’d passed a test I didn’t know I’d been taking. And I was more than a little relieved.

I grabbed our bags first, then blocked Robin from view as we made the quick trek across the sidewalk to the entrance of the high-rise building. It was a nice building, all glittery black glass and steel bars. I would’ve appreciated it more if I wasn’t growling at people.

It felt second nature to protect him.

It always had.

But here that need was even more prevalent.

When we were through the large glass doors of the lobby we both relaxed. The paparazzi stayed outside, blocked by the one-way glass. The door man gave Robin a smile that was wide and friendly as he offered to take our bags.

“I got it!” a sharp feminine voice called, accompanied by the click of heels and the scent of bergamot. I swiveled to face the newcomer, more than ready to fight off another person. I moved Robin gently behind me, facing the threat head on, my jaw tensed.

“Nancy!” Robin’s voice was warm, muffled a little because he was behind me. He didn’t stay where I’d put him for long, wiggling happily against my back, his head popping out to stare at the severe woman in black as she approached.

She had a short dark bob, all straight lines and hard edges. Her makeup was impeccable. Her lips painted crisp sharp-edgedblack. Dressed in head-to-toe business casual, she had a rather impressive silhouette. Tall, vicious, with a coldness to her.

It only took me a second to recognize the name and relax. Nancy. Robin’s assistant. He’d told me about her.

We’d had a lot of time to talk on the plane, and in between naps Robin had told me stories and given me warnings about our time here—always a worrier, that one. It hadn’t taken much to realize that Nancy was the best part about his life here.

He adored her.

“Honey, you look absolutelydreadful,” Nancy said as I stepped to the side so Robin could greet her. “Flannel,really?” She arched a perfectly manicured brow. “Are we fucking cows now too?”

All of the clothes I’d bought Robin were black, the flannel included. I wanted him to be warm, not to erase who he was.

“Oh my god,” Robin laughed. “You can’t just say that!”

“You can’t come home looking all lumber-jack-y and expect anything different,” Nancy hummed, leaning down to smooch his cheek. “Who’s this?” Nancy twisted to assess me, rising up to her full, impressive height.

I stood taller, surprised that for the first time in years I felt like I was in grade school. She gave off the same energy my third grade teacher had. Strict but kind.

“This is Ben,” Robin twisted his head back to beam up at me. His tears had dried, though his eyes were red rimmed. “You’d know about him if you hadn’t told me I wasn’t allowed to call you.”

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