Page 24

“Taavi.”

The smile he gave me with a shake of his head was weak, and it felt a little like a push against my stomach. “Elliot needs you,” he said softly, turning his hands so that he could squeeze mine, then release them.

“Taavi—”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Val.”

I wanted to push him. Wanted to make him tell me whatever it was. But he said he didn’t want to talk about it, and I also didn’t want to be the asshole boyfriend who didn’t listen and respect the boundaries he was setting.

Goddammit.

I stood up, walked over to where he was folding his pajama pants and t-shirt, and wrapped him in my arms, resting my cheek on his head. He leaned back into me, the warmth of his body and the soft spicy-soapy smell of his hair easing some of the tightness in my chest.

“I want to help,” I told his hair, the black strands, still loose, brushing against my lips.

“I know.” He ran fingers over my arm, the touch delicate and soft.

That was all I was going to get out of him, I could tell.

“You should go help Elliot,” he told me, gently easing his way out of my arms, leaving me feeling cold and empty.

“Taavi—”

“I’ll be here when you get back,” he assured me with a smile that at least wasn’t quite as weak as the last one.

I cupped his face in my hands. “Promise?”

He held one of my hands in his for a moment, then turned and kissed my palm. “Promise.”

* * *

I metElliot back at his dad’s house, although this time he got there first and was wrestling a bunch of new plastic totes out of the back of his Tundra. I climbed out of my mom’s Taurus and came over, taking the stack of totes from him.

“What’re these for?”

“Whatever,” he answered shortly, then sighed, running an un-gloved hand through his hair, which hung loose today, the white streak having fallen off to one side, giving him an almost rakish flair. Then he grimaced. “You don’t have an extra hair tie, do you?”

Apparently the hair wasn’t a choice. “Maybe?” I rested the totes on his bumper so I could dig around in my parka pockets, coming up with one from the little zipper breast pocket that I had no idea what the fuck it was actually for. I handed him the elastic.

“Thanks.” He quickly tied his hair back at the nape of his neck. I picked up the totes again, then followed him as he pulled a duffel and a garment bag out of the rear passenger seats of the truck.

“You staying here?”

He let out a heavy sigh. “Not much point in spending the money on the fucking hotel,” he answered.

Hoo, boy. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, since if Elliot was staying here, I was also pretty sure I was going to end up sleeping here. Ornotsleeping here, as the case may be.

Fuck. I was going to owe Taavi so much after this.

Like, tropical vacation and cabana boys much.

Whatever he fucking wanted.

As soon as this was over, I was going to do every little tiny thing Taavi asked of me, probably for the rest of my life, to try to make up for having dragged him out here.

I followed Elliot back into the house—he opened the door, this time—and carried the totes into the kitchen after him. He took a deep breath, then let it out again.

“I—I have to be at the funeral home by eleven,” he rasped. “To go over… stuff.”