Page 112 of The Rogue

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said. “But it’s bologna.”

His stomach clenched.

“I don’t mind,” he said.

“I know those kids didn’t have everything,” she said, and he knew exactly who she meant. “But I’m glad they had each other.”

“Me too,” he said, his throat scratchy.

He moved closer to her, and that was when he noticed that she was wearing not just the blue necklace he’d given her the day of the wedding, but the necklace he made for her all those years ago. A leather strap with sea glass clumsily attached.

How had she ever thought that was store-bought? It was so clearly made with inexperienced hands. And yet...

He suddenly felt the strangest swelling of affection for the little boy that had made that for the girl that he... The girl he cared about more than anything in the world. That little boy that had spent days in a cave,but had still looked at Ruby Matthews and seen some kind of magic.

She was the only magic that he had been able to see in the whole world for a really long time.

That poor kid. That poor damned kid.

“There’s nothing to hide from anymore,” she said as he sat down. “Isn’t that the craziest thing? Your dad’s gone.”

He huffed a laugh. “Yeah. I guess he is.”

They opened up the picnic basket, and took out the sandwiches. There was more than just bologna. There was potato salad and macaroni and cheese. Some nice-looking rolls. But they both took a bite of the bologna first.

He didn’t do nostalgia all that often. Mostly because his childhood wasn’t a lot to write home about. The only nostalgia he had centered around her. This place. Bologna sandwiches.

It felt particularly intense and bright now.

“I really can’t believe you still have that,” he said.

“I can’t believe you think I would’ve thrown it out.”

He hadn’t, she realized. He hadn’t thought that she would’ve thrown it out. On some level, he knew that he could trust that Rue would’ve kept it.

That was a strange and terrifying feeling, and he didn’t know why it should be.

“It means a lot,” he said.

She ducked her head, and looked up at him, taking a bite of the sandwich. Right then, he saw the girl she’d been. Like she was sitting right in front of them. Like no time had passed at all.

Then she wrinkled her nose and gave him a moremischievous look, and he remembered being sixteen and thinking she was the prettiest damned thing he’d ever seen. And running from it.

He’d stopped running. He might as well kiss her.

So he did. He leaned in and cupped her face and kissed her, because that was really what he wanted to do then, and he hadn’t let himself.

Maybe the boy he’d been had always wanted this.

You denied him this. Not anyone else.

And suddenly, the deepest anger that he felt was at himself.

But there was no point being angry at himself. Because even now, Rue had to go back to her own house. She had to go back to her own life. He needed... he needed space. As wonderful as it was to have her in his life, in his house, there was something deeply uncomfortable about it. And he just... He couldn’t.

But he could indulge in this. Tonight. Now.

He kissed her like he might die if he didn’t, because right then everything felt like dying. He didn’t know what the hell you were supposed to do with that. With every outcome feeling impossible. Feeling like the wrong one.

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