Page 48 of Burning Hearts
“Yeah?”
“Not tonight,” he said, his voice even.
Not stern.
Real.
It slid into me like a gear finding its place.
He hadn’t said never. He’d set a perimeter and trusted me to honor it. Somehow that felt hotter than a yes would have.
“Copy,” I said, because it was better thanokay.
We went back to the map because the map wouldn’t kiss anyone. He traced the neat blue run of power, checking my math, and I pretended that the shiver in my wrist was caused by air-conditioning.
“Do you want a volunteer posted at your tap water cooler?” I asked, finally finding a safe thing to say. “Sometimes people refill like they’re at a well.”
“One human and a trash can,” he said. “If you give people an obvious place to do the right thing, they usually do it.”
“Make it easy to be good,” I said.
Cade gave me that look. The one that meant he was going to pretend to dislike that phrase.
“You’re going to make me a sign, aren’t you?” he said.
“Only if you deserve it.”
His shoulder brushed mine.
Nothing. Everything.
He smiled at me. “Don’t get sentimental on me.”
“Never,” I said. “That’s Beau’s job.”
He ran through one more pass, reviewing the map. Booth edge to fountain, fountain to the alley, alley back to the hotel’s driveway.
I knew the route by heart.
“You’ll text if anything shifts?” he asked.
I thought of wind wrestling the canopy, of his hands on the legs.
Of the calm that poured out of him when a room wanted to panic.
“Yes,” I said.
His eyes locked with mine.
“I should let you sleep,” he said.
“You should,” I replied, but didn’t move.
Neither did he.
We existed in the kind of pause people hate and love at the same time.
Two breaths. Then a third.
