Page 72 of His Custody

“Clearly not in a good way.”

It was true she was outright glowering at him, but that wasn’t the problem, not at all. If she squinted, let her eyes go unfocused... Her chest hurt and she bit back tears. “Maybe too good a way.”

“Who’d you lose?”

“How’d you know?”

He shrugged. “My parents died a few years ago. I’ve gotten pretty good at spotting other lost souls.”

“I’m not lost.” She wasn’t. She had Jasper. Jasper wouldn’t let her get lost. No matter where she was, he’d find her. There was no way for her to be lost, not with Jasper always looking out for her.

“Not even a little bit?” he prodded.

She rolled her lips between her teeth and bit down until it hurt. “Maybe.” The concession felt like a betrayal of Jasper somehow, and she felt guilty for it, but if he hadn’t abandoned her to her own devices she wouldn’t feel that way, so really it was his own egotistical pigheaded fault. “And I’m sorry. About your parents.”

“Thanks. I’m sorry about your...?”

The question hung in the air. She could not answer him, maybe lie. Sometimes she downplayed her loss. Being an orphan was one thing. Being an orphan whose godparents and boyfriend had died, too, was another thing. It reminded her of that Oscar Wilde quote: “Toloseoneparentmay be regarded as a misfortune; toloseboth looks like carelessness.”

What did that make her? Reckless? Cursed? Whatever it was, it didn’t make people like her. Her roommates were pleasant to her, but mostly they avoided her and she didn’t blame them.

“Boyfriend. He’s who you remind me of.” He opened his mouth to offer condolences and she shook her head, silencing him. “And his parents. And my parents. About a year and a half ago.”

One year, three months, and four days to be precise, but she wouldn’t say that out loud. That she kept track was something she kept even from Jasper and her therapist. Surely that didn’t count as healthy behavior but oh the fuck well. Everyone had their vices, and that was hers.

She held her breath waiting for him to start stuttering all over himself, as if the extent of her grief required outsized condolences, as if a super big apology would in any way make up for her loss. Despite her initial reaction to him, she liked tree boy and it would hurt worse when he went all concerned supernova on her.

But he didn’t.

He looked her in the eyes and said softly, “I’m sorry.”

The intensity and the sincerity in his expression almost knocked her over. She’d thrown up all the walls around the grief whore approach and she didn’t see this one coming. It wedged its way into her soft tissues and even though it hurt, she didn’t want to pull it out. “Thank you.”

His eyes narrowed, and his nose and mouth screwed up in an almost comical fashion. “I suppose now would be a bad time to tell you I sat under your tree on purpose.”

No, it was perfect timing. “You did?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen you sitting there before. And around campus. I could never work up the nerve to talk to you. I figured if I sat there, sooner or later you’d come along and even if it was to yell at me for stealing your spot, you’d have to talk to me. But then I’d be all charming and you know, the rest would be history.”

“History, huh?”

“Ancient.”

She eyed tree boy suspiciously, unsure of how to handle him now. “Is this your version of charming?”

“I didn’t think I’d make you cry.”

“No actual tears were shed in the making of this meet-cute.”

He smiled at her then, and though the pain struck hard and fast, there was pleasure in it, too. Shouldn’t be surprising, she was a masochist after all. Why wouldn’t she fall for Gavin’s doppelganger?

“I’m Tyler, by the way. And you are?”

She held out a hand and he took it, the first time she’d wanted to touch someone other than Jasper in a long time. His hand, big and warm, didn’t disappoint her.

“Keyne. Spelled more like the economist than you know, and Abel.”

“K-e-y-n-e?”

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