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I flopped onto the bed beside him, staring up at the ceiling.
“Are they together? Were they? Is Egret still pining? Or is he pissed because she’s over it?”
Thomas smirked. “You really can’t stand not knowing something, can you?”
“I like knowing when the people covering my back aren’t about to have a lovers’ spat in the middle of a mission . . . in occupied fucking Hungary. So, yeah, I can’t stand it.”
Thomas shook his head, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes.
“Sparrow’s not the type to let personal matters impede the job.”
“No,” I agreed, “but Egret is. He’s a hothead, and you know it.”
Silence stretched between us, long and unspoken.
Finally, Thomas sighed, running a hand through his hair. “They were close. Once. Close doesn’t always mean the same thing to two people, and sometimes, people let go at different speeds.”
“And Egret is still holding on?”
Thomas didn’t answer.
He didn’t need to.
I blew out a sharp breath. “Well. That’s not going to be a problem at all.”
“They’ll be fine,” Thomas said, standing again. “They always are.”
I huffed. I didn’t believe that for a second. I doubted Thomas did.
We lapsed into quiet, both of us packing up the last of our things, preparing to step out of this life and into another. I moved to fasten my wristwatch, but before I could, Thomas grabbed me.
It was quick—one hand on my shirtfront, the other at my waist—pulling me in before I even had a chance to react.
Then his mouth was on mine.
Not desperate. Not urgent. Just firm and certain.
It was the kind of kiss that reminded you of everything you were—and everything you had to lose.
His fingers curled against my side as he pulled back just enough to murmur against my lips, “Promise me you’ll stay safe.”
I let out a quiet, breathless laugh, running a hand through his hair.
“You do realizeyouare the one who keeps getting captured and shot, right?”
He smirked, but his fingers didn’t loosen.
“Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
I exhaled, pressing my forehead against his for a moment.
“Fine. I promise . . . but you have to promise the same.”
Thomas pulled back just enough to cock an eyebrow.
“You think I wouldn’t?”
“I think you have a bad habit of nearly dying in my arms,” I shot back.