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“We live in shadows most of the time. Anyonelike ushas to,” I said, unsure how to even describe what we were. Society had very few words for us, few polite ones anyway. “Even when walking our own neighborhood, we’re hiding in plain sight, pretending, lying to everyone—but then we go home, and it’s just us. There are no more games, no masks, no pretending.”
I smiled, small but real.
“That’s what makes it worth it. The quiet moments together, just us.”
Sparrow studied me, something thoughtful in her gaze.
“So you’re in love with him.”
I snorted. “I’m so desperately, disastrously, hopelessly, pathetically in love with him that it eats my insides just to think of being apart . . . even for a moment. Hell, I can see him right now, but my hand wants to reach out and touch him, just to be closer, to feel his warmth. I’m so over the moon, it’s sad . . . or happy . . . or both. I don’t know anymore.”
She laughed, shaking her head.
“I mean, have youseenhim?” I continued, unwilling to stop gushing once I’d started. “The man is a goddamn dream. He’s smart, sharp as hell, and he’s got this brooding thing going that should be annoying, but instead it’s just—” I sighed, pressing a hand to my heart in mock swoon. “Perfect.”
Sparrow covered her mouth to stifle her laughter, shaking her head.
“You’resoscrewed,” she managed.
“And yet, here we are.”
She nudged me with her foot. “So, what? You two just lurk in the shadows, saving the world, then go home and make dinner together like some happily married couple?”
I grinned, my eyes glinting. “You joke, but yes. I make a mean risotto.”
She giggled, her shoulders shaking, before her expression sobered just a little.
“It doesn’t bother you?” she asked.
I blinked. “What doesn’t?”
Her lips pressed together for a second, as if choosing her words.
“That you have to hide it all the time. That the world won’t let you have the same thing as everyone else.”
My chest tightened, but I didn’t let it show. Instead, I let out a wry chuckle, rubbing my chin.
“Well, technically, we’re just ‘taking work home with us.’ Hiding in shadowsisour profession, isn’t it?”
Sparrow let out a startled laugh, but I saw the flicker of something somber in her eyes.
“It’s one hell of a job,” she murmured.
“It sure is,” I agreed.
For a moment, neither of us spoke . . . because what could we say?
This was the life we had. The choices we’d made.
Loving someone like Thomas—loving at all—was always going to be dangerous.
Sparrow looked at me, then smiled, small and knowing.
“I’m glad you have him,” she said, reaching over and squeezing my arm.
I grinned, putting my hand on hers and returning the squeeze. “Me, too.”
She rolled her eyes, but her smile lingered.