Page 103 of Shadow Dance

“Tristan and Evie?”

“My whole family,” she says with a chuckle. “They’re all here, even my parents.”

I glance over my shoulder at her as I unlock the door to my apartment. “Wait, what?”

“Long story. They can be a little intense.” She follows me inside, rolling her eyes, but I sense from the happy flush on her cheeks that she doesn’t really mind.

“Can I get you anything to drink? Water? Beer?” I ask, putting my food in the fridge.

“I’m okay,” she says. “I just … I wanted to see you.”

“I wanted to see you, too,” I say quietly, leaning against the counter.Suddenly there’s so much to be said that I don’t know where to start. “You have no idea how much.”

“I know.” She wanders around the room, stopping to examine the pictures on the walls. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, and then you sent me that postcard and I realized maybe there was a chance.”

“How’d you even find me?” I ask, a little unsettled. No one should be able to, not this easily.

Maeve smirks. “Didn’t you want me to? Isn’t that why you put the PO Box number on the return address?”

“Ah.” I grin, rubbing my hand over my stubble. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“Never underestimate my brothers.”

“I’m starting to see that.”

“Lucky figured out what post office it was at and sent one of his guys down to stake it out. He knew what you looked like, because we sent him a picture from my phone. Once he saw you, he followed you here. That was last week.” She swallows, looking nervous again as she comes closer. “I know you’re trying to stay under the radar, but I had to at least try.”

“I’m glad you did.”Understatement of the year. “I was waiting for a postcard from Boston or something, but this works.”

She grins at that. “You know what? I am hungry. Let’s go eat.”

I take her to Tita’s, a family restaurant where the beer is cheap and the food is so good you want to cry. It’s the next best thing to homemade.

“You must come here a lot,” Maeve remarks after the bartender and two of the servers greet me by name.

“Once a week, at least.”

“What’s your favorite thing to order?” she asks, looking away from me to examine a handwritten menu stuck to the wall. It’s in Spanish, but I know the second she sees something she recognizes because she smiles. “Oh, they have mofongo.”

“Why do you think I brought you here?”

Tears sparkle in her eyes as she looks at me. “You know, I kept thinking about you as Jaime. It was really hard not to. But now that I’m here with you, you’re different.”

“In some ways.” I chew my lip then reach tentatively across the table to take her hand. “Not others.”

Yomaris, the older woman who owns the place, comes by to take our order, setting a couple of beers on the table with a wink. I’m usually alone when I come here, so I suspect she likes that I have a date today.

“Your hair is so short,” Maeve says when we’re alone again, her eyes trailing all over me.

I run my hand over my head. “This is how I usually keep it. The longer hair was just …”

“Part of the act? I cut mine too, actually.” Letting go of my hand, she releases her hair from the bun at the nape of her neck. It barely brushes her shoulders now. “I know you liked it long, but I needed a change.”

“I love your hair.” I swallow the emotion threatening to take me down. “Curly, straight, long, short. I’ve always loved your hair.”

Her eyes widen in surprise.

“It was so hard, Maeve.” I sit back in my chair, scrubbing my hands over my face. “Pretending I didn’t care.”

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