Page 87 of The Cartographer

“Yes, he did. Do you know why? It’s because he cares about you and he worries about you and he said you’ve been distracted and haven’t been taking care of yourself. You know if anything ever happened to you, he’d be devastated and blame himself.”

“What about you?” I ask, pulling her in front of me and wrapping my arms around her while I rest my chin on the top of her head.

She shrugs, but I can see uneasiness widen her eyes and feel the hitch in her breath. I give her a squeeze, but she won’t meet my eyes, not even in the glass. I’ve upset her and I didn’t mean to.

“You’re going to live forever.” Her voice is all prim and stiff, even though her lips are soft as she kisses my forearm.

“It’s true,” I assure her because India is one of the people who doesn’t like to think about my mortality. Or Cris’s. Or anyone’s really. “I’ve already infiltrated the vampire cabal, I’m just waiting on them to turn me. You know how persuasive I can be. Shouldn’t be much longer.”

She bites me then, and the sharp teeth sinking into my flesh let me know she feels better. I don’t bother to react, not even out of habit. Then she’s unwinding my arms from around her and dragging me by the hand back into the bedroom and over to the bed.

We climb in, and she snuggles up next to me, resting her head on my shoulder and sliding an arm around my waist. Thank god Cris is secure enough in their relationship he doesn’t have a problem with India and me sharing a bed when he’s not around. Sleeping with another person is one of life’s great pleasures, one I miss since I don’t get to request Matthew’s presence whenever I feel like it anymore.

Yes, I occasionally have the privilege with Allie, but exclusively when I’ve beat or fucked him so silly he doesn’t remember to keep distance between us. I would be lying if I said I never take advantage of that.

India is a particularly good person to cuddle up with since she takes zero effort to get into bed with and sleeps like a stone. A solid, still ball of heat. Like a human hot water bottle. I sleep easier when we’re all twisted up together, and I don’t quite know why.

“You are, you know.”

“Hmm?”

I stroke her hair in hopes of diverting her with physical affection. It’s not a crazy tactic. She’s like a cat that way. But she’s not to be deterred this time.

“Distracted. What’s up with that?”

I don’t answer because I’m honestly hoping she’ll fall asleep and forget all about it, and in the morning, she’ll have to hustle out to the office too early to bug me about it again. My India, though—she’s nothing if not tenacious when there’s something she wants. She levers herself onto her elbow and glares at me. “Spill, Walter.”

As with so many things where India is concerned, resistance is futile.

“It’s Hart.” The confession makes my jaw flex. Because even if I’m talking about it, that doesn’t mean I have to like it.

Her black hair spills over her shoulder as she tilts her head. “You’re still seeing him?”

“I am.”

“That’s…” Ha, I’ve done it. India Burke at a loss for words. I won’t revel in my victory for too long, though. I don’t want her to pout.

“Surprising? Yes, I’d have to agree.”

Not that I don’t date. Not that I don’t have various sorts of partners. I do. This is different, and she can tell.

“Are you not…enjoying it?”

She sounds confused, and she ought to. She knows as well as anyone I rarely tolerate dissatisfaction.

“I am.”

“So the problem is…?”

“I didn’t say there was a problem.”

“No, but you’re acting all weird. It’s making me uncomfortable. Stop doing that.”

A terribly uncivilized snort makes its way out of my nose. “Not to worry, little one. It’s merely temporary. Next time I see you, I’ll be back to my old self.”

She settles back against me, though this time higher up my body so we’re lying face-to-face on the same pillow. It’s a strange privilege, to share this unbearable intimacy with her, knowing I’m one of two people in the world allowed through all the layers of brittle shell and into the tender, innermost heart of India. She looks at me with those bewitching eyes of hers and I try not to blink, but having her scrutinize me this way is unnerving. I’d hate to work for the woman. She’s got to be the world’s most demanding and incisive boss.

That’s when I commit myself to it…to breaking things off with Allie. To stop dragging my feet and find him someone new, someone worthy of him. I’ve had a few ideas kicking around in the back of my head, but all this time I’ve been telling myself he’s not ready. In this moment, I can admit that’s not true. He’s more than ready. It’s me who’s not, and I have to stop holding him back from finding someone who can appreciate everything he is and everything he needs.

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