Page 99 of If Only In Our Dreams

Long enough I wasn’t sure my frozen legs would be able to cooperate. My back protested the odd position, but I fought through the pain, waiting for Robin’s eyes to clear and his body to soften. When it did, I could finally breathe again.

“I’m sorry,” Robin said, his voice crackly and low with remorse. “Sometimes I just?—”

“The camera,” I murmured, continuing to stroke his cheeks.

“I thought someone took a picture of us,” Robin replied, confirming my earlier fear. The one I’d tried not to think about. I must’ve made a face, because he was quick to assuage my fears. “I don’t want to ruin your life,” he said, voice wavering like it only did when he was hurting.

I remembered the way he’d been recognized at the airport.

The way he’d held himself then, uncomfortable but earnest, as he’d done his best to give advice to the little boy who had approached him unsolicited.

Icy clarity washed over me, and I sat up a little taller.

“You hate it,” I said, genuinely surprised.

“Hate…what?” Robin echoed.

“You hate being famous.” It wasn’t a question so much as it was an observation. It was odd. Normally someone with Robin’sbackground would’ve thrived on the attention he never received as a child. He was a walking contradiction.

“Yeah,” Robin admitted, like he had just given me nuclear launch codes. “I do.” His face pinched. “You can touch me more now. I’m okay.”

Forcing myself up—Jesus god, that hurt—I slid onto the bench beside him. It felt second nature to stretch an arm behind him and pull him in close. Just as naturally, Robin wiggled till his chin was sandwiched on my chest, his green eyes blinking up at me.

“That must be hard,” I said, staring down at him as he picked at the seam on the side of my jeans without noticing that was what he was doing.

“I didn’t realize,” he admitted, nervouslypick, pick, pickingaway. “Not until it was too late to take it back.”

“You’re more relaxed in Belleville,” I realized, stroking up and down his back just the way he liked. He melted into the touch every time, like he’d never been touched before in his life. Not this way, gently and without expectation.

“No one knows me there,” Robin shrugged. “It’s like…an alternate dimension or something.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, continuing to stroke. “We could’ve done something else?—”

“You wanted to take me shopping,” Robin protested, sitting up straighter, his chin really digging in. “It was so sweet. No one’s ever wanted to do that for me before.”

“We could’ve shopped online.”

“It’s not the same.” Robin sucked in a breath. “Look,” he said, softly but firmly. “I’m tired of missing out on being a real person.” There was nothing but sincerity in his eyes. “And if I didn’t want to come I would’ve told you.”

They said,believe me.

They said,I know my limits.

They said,don’t take this from me.

And what was I supposed to say to that?

“It’s not that I don’t want to be seen with you,” Robin said, somehow reading my mind. “Except that it kinda is?” he added, shrugging one shoulder self-consciously. “Because if they see us together—if they take pictures, and find out who you are—your peace is shattered, just like mine has been.”

“Oh,Robin.”

“I don’t want Rosie and Jane to be recognized by the fucking vultures out there,” Robin continued. “I want you all to live normal, happy lives. Without what I am…corrupting them.”

“Robin,” I rumbled again because I got the feeling I’d just stumbled upon a landmine. “I’ve known who you were from the start.”

He opened his mouth to protest, so I shushed him softly.

“It’s my turn,” I said, keeping my tone gentle. “Let me finish.”

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