Page 98 of Dead Set on You
I repeat this several times, and it still doesn’t make sense.
I watch him maneuver through more hugs. He’s laughing and talking with his entire body, charming people as he goes. Too late, I realize he’s made his way toward me. He gestures toward the hallway with the crook of his finger, and I follow after him, like a puppet on a string, zinging with the energy of the evening.
“Here,” he says, pushing into a room with aPRIVATEsign attached to the door. Cheeks flushed and eyes brighter than usual, he’s smiling at me like it’smybirthday.
Feeling too many new things, I step tentatively into the room—an office crammed with boxes and crates. Rafael leans against a desk while I stick to the comfort of the wall. Only the space doesn’t steady me as I’d hoped.
“I didn’t know about tonight. I’m sorry,” Rafael says, a little breathless as he brushes back his hair. Curls stick to his neck.
“Don’t be.” I knot my fingers to still the onset of the shakes. “It’s your birthday! Why didn’t you say anything?”
He lifts a shoulder. “Not important.”
“Everyone out there would disagree.”
“And the person in here?” The way his voice dips makes me hot all over.
“Everyone’s birthday is important.”
Rafael chuckles warmly. “You always have an answer for everything.”
The penetrating look in his eyes kindles a fire that’s already raging. I’m surprised I don’t breathe smoke when I talk. “Not everything. Why didn’t you tell me this was your business? That you planned on leaving?”
“Didn’t want you to die from joy.” He winces. “Shit choice of words, E. Sorry.”
“I’ll forgive you if you answer. The real answer.”
Rafael’s lips twitch. “It’s … it’s been something I’ve been working on for years, and it only became something that needed my full attention this past year. It all happened really fast. I wanted to say something, but there was never a right time to bring it up, so I planned on doing it the night of the OhLaLove dinner …” His voice trails off. “And when you showed up again, it wasn’t a priority to talk about me and my plans. Helping you was so much more important. Itisthe most important.”
The naked truth darkens his gaze, and awareness zings through me.Me—I’ve been his priority. I swallow past the knot in my throat. “So, when’s your last day?”
“The day of the accident. I wanted to come there for the dinner. Help out,” he says, his voice trailing off.
“You quit already?” I squeak, torn between focusing on his words and on his lips.
Rafael nods, looking sheepish. “Weeks before the accident, actually.”
I try to do the math—to add it all up—but shock makes it impossible to compute. “You could have told me.”
“I could have,” he says, his throat bobbing. “But we were working on OhLaLove, and I wanted us to do the pitch before I told you.” He hesitates. “It was one last … rodeo. With you.”
I swallow hard, uncertain what to make of the way he saysyou. Like I was someone he’d miss instead of someone who’d made his life hell.
“But—you loved Media Lab.”
Rafael pushes from the desk, closing the distance between us in two strides. One hand lands on the wall beside my head, his body so close my pulse trips, then stalls. The room shrinks, the air going with it. I think about his scent—sandalwood and soap—because I’ve memorized it over the years, and it takes everything not to lean in.
“I never did,” he murmurs. “I meant it when I said it was a job, nothing more.” His voice is low and husky, making my thoughts short-circuit.
I lick my lips. “But—why stay for so long?”
Rafael’s gaze dips to my mouth. “I thought it was obvious—”
“Raffi!” The door bursts open, Gianna’s head poking in. “What the hell are you doing here on your own?” She frowns as she takes in his posture and motions for him to follow.
Rafael lithely pushes from the wall and rolls his shoulders. “Can’t a birthday boy get some air, G?”
“Air? In here? It smells like an armpit,” she says, lacing her fingers through his and tugging him out of the room. He mouthslateras he disappears, leaving me to assess the damage. His truths. Mine.
