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“They’re the only shoes you brought.”
“They’re completely practical. The perfect travel accessory, in fact.”
“They fold.”
“That’s obviouslywhythey’re practical.”
“And you wonder why I think you’re not taking this seriously.”
Everly didn’t snap, exactly. But something inside her seemed to crumble. As if she’d propped everything up on slender, fragile little matchsticks, and they’d all given way at the same time, in a big rush and tumble.
For a moment she thought she might topple over and explode into dust herself, but she didn’t. Of course she didn’t.
She didn’t know what to do. She apparently never knew what to do around this man. So instead of standingthere and letting him read that all over her face, she turned around and headed for her bedroom. Because the other option was saying something else she’d regret.
But she couldn’t help throwing a look over her shoulder when she got to her doorway.
He’d followed her out of the kitchen, but he’d stopped there at the other end of the living room. Which was good, because if he’d still been too close, she might have taken one of the fists she hadn’t known she’d made at her side and tried to whack him with it. Suicidal, obviously, but all those matchsticks had snapped, and she had nothing left but rubble.
Some part of her just wanted to make it worse. To see if it was possible that things could actually get any worse than they already were.
“What’s the matter with you?” She fought to sound if not exactly calm, not crazy and over-the-top, either. “You don’t have to be nice to me, I guess. But would it really kill you to be polite?”
“This is polite.”
“Do you have any idea what I’ve been through?”
She threw it at him, only distantly aware that she was loud. Too loud. That this was probably what snapping felt like. But for once, she didn’t care.
“Oh, I know,” she said, when he began to say something. “Nothing I could possibly have gone through in the past month compares to anything you’ve been through out there, saving the world.”
She thought he looked stiffer and more grim than he had a moment before. “You’re right. It doesn’t.”
“I’m sure that’s true. But you were trained for what you did. Bad things didn’t just show up in the middle ofthe night, waking you from a sound sleep and changing your life forever. I was never trained. I have no tools to use in a situation like this.” She made herself pull in a breath, and hated that she was nowawareof her breathing, or lack of it. It made her temper kick up harder. “I don’t know if you get scared for your life or not, but I did. I am. I’mafraid, Blue. Do you understand that?”
The air seemed to pull tight between them, thick and sharp at once.
His dark eyes blazed. “More than you will ever know.”
Something about that scratched at her in ways she really didn’t like. Everly felt ashamed of herself, and she liked that even less.
“I’m sorry,” she made herself say, though she didn’t know if that was true. She didn’t know anything anymore. “I’m tired. I’m overemotional. I’m not sure I know what I’m saying.”
“I think you do,” Blue said, and whatever intensity she thought she could see on his face, it wasn’t in his voice. He just sounded cold. “You want it both ways. You want all that superhero shit. Batman and Gotham and whatever else you were talking about earlier. And at the same time, you want to pretend that I’m still that kid who lived across the street from you.”
“I’m not pretending anything,” she said, but her voice was barely more than a whisper.
“Neither of those people exist,” Blue told her, his voice hard. “I’m just me. I’m not that pathetic, angry kid, and I’m certainly not a hero. What I am is the only person who can keep you safe.”
“Blue...”
“Here’s how this is going to work.” It was as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’m going to chalk tonight up to exhaustion. But going forward, you do what I tell you to do. No discussion. No debates. And definitely no emotional outbursts, like I’m some douchebag boyfriend telling you to put on a few pounds to keep him happy.”
It was like he’d slapped her. And the way his gaze bored into her, she thought he knew it. That it was deliberate, like everything else he did.
“I’m not your boyfriend,” he continued when she didn’t respond. Because she couldn’t seem to form words. “The only interest I have in you is keeping you alive. Do you understand me?”
Everly understood him too well. She couldn’t tell if it was shame or humiliation that wound around inside her, burning like a red-hot cramp. But all she wanted to do was crawl off into her room, curl up into a ball, and pretend none of this had ever happened.