Page 127 of The Lair

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” He cradles the back of my head, tangling his fingers in my hair. “You don’t have to say the words now. I feel them too. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

Travis loves me.

He loves me enough to wait to hear it. And I love him enough to tell him when the time is right.

Chapter Forty-One

Travisand I go on a date every day for the next five days.

I sleep late in the mornings, join my daily video session with Dr. Rowland, go grocery shopping or clean the house or meet with Jada during her lunch break at her school, and then, in the afternoons, Travis picks me up.

Since he chose the observatory for our first date, I decide the spot for our second. We spend hours exploring the Santa Monica Pier while I tell him all about the memories I have from when I came here with my family, just once, ten years ago.

In Fisherman’s Village, on our third date, Travis confessed that he flinched during the fireworks show at the New Year’s party because of his PTSD from the Navy. That it never fully goes away, and he’s made peace with that. I tell him about my kidnapping—how I escaped, the promise I made to the sky, and the nightmares that still make themselves at home in my mind some nights.

While we stroll through Palos Verdes on our fourth date, I tell him about my time in Dallas, Nashville, and all the small towns I’d lived in before reaching Maine. He laughs at the fact that I only ended up in Bannport thanks to a car malfunction, and it’s the most beautiful sound I hear all day.

In Little Tokyo, on our fifth date, I tell him that I’m a natural blonde—he must know since he saw the interview, but I want him to know becauseItold him—and he asks if changing my last name was a tough choice.

“By that point, it wasn’t,” I admit. “I’ve never felt connected to my parents, so becoming a Smith didn’t feel like a big deal. I don’t know. Last names mean nothing to me. Buccieri doesn’t anyway.”

And after our sixth date, as he stops the car in Jada and Paul’s driveway when we come back from a drive-in theater, this fantasyland we’ve been living in for the past week comes to an end.

“I have to fly back home tomorrow,” Travis says into the night, his eyes on me, while we’re still inside the car.

“Okay,” I say slowly. I knew this moment would come. He’s the boss, but he can’t stay away forever. So why do I feel nauseous?

“Sorry it’s so last-minute.” His voice has an edge to it, almost as if he was mad at himself. “I didn’t want to ruin tonight by telling you before the movie.”

“It’s okay.” My throat works a swallow. “Thank you for coming here. You didn’t have to.”

His expression softens. “I’d do it a million times over.”

I resist the urge to throw myself into his arms. How am I supposed to control myself around him when he says things like that?

“Before I go, I…” He pauses, and I can almost see the gears turning in his head. “I need you to know that I don’t expect anything from you. Me coming to Los Angeles wasn’t meant to guilt-trip you. I just wanted to see you and talk to you.”

“I know,” I reassure him.

“I want you to spend as much time as you need here with your loved ones,” he says, his voice serious. “And when you’reready, if you ever are, The Lair will always be your home.Iwill always be your home. Okay?”

My chest falters when I try to take a deep breath. “I don’t… I don’t want us to become strangers.”

“We won’t.” He reaches out his hand until he’s holding mine over the console. “Whenever you’re ready, Allie. I’ll be there. I mean it.”

We haven’t kissed since the observatory. I’m aware that he’s giving me space, but not knowing when the next time I’ll see him will be is making me want to kiss him again.

“Slow,” he rasps out, as if it pains him to say the word. As if he could read my thoughts. “We’ll take it slow.”

He doesn’t want to kiss me.

No.

He wants to make sure I’m in the right headspace for things between us to happen.

The cutthroat way in which my own head interrupts my obsessive thinking takes me aback. I’m not used to it, but it’s not an unwelcome change.

Plus, my non-catastrophic inner voice is right. I know what Travis feels for me, and what I feel for him. But the time to act on those feelings isn’t here yet, and I don’t know when it will be.

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