Time (Laws of Physics #3)(9)

I rubbed my forehead, shutting my eyes, working to get my temper under control. “Then why don’t you call her and ask her permission? Can you do that? Please?”

“No!” he shouted. Then he continued, quieter, “I know you’re mad now, but you’ll see I’m right.”

I laughed, my chest, throat, and mouth full of broken glass, because what else could I do? “You’re an idiot.”

He also huffed a bitter-sounding laugh. “Yeah, well, maybe I am, because I’ll still be here, I’ll still be your friend when you come to your fucking senses.” Leo sounded tired, spent. “I’m just trying to save you from yourself, man. It’s not worth the pain, okay? Call me when you see reason.”

Not worth the pain.

Fuck it. The next time I saw Leo, I would punch him in the face. All those years, listening to him talk about Mona as though she had no feelings, feeding into this narrative about her being completely callous and inhuman-levels of resilient.

Before Aspen, I’d believed him. It was easy and convenient to think of her that way.

But now, I hated it. I hated how they and everyone else talked about her like she was this invulnerable, dispassionate alien thing, too perfect, untouchable, unknowable. At some point, Mona and I would have to discuss it, because I wasn’t going to be able to watch their continued abuse without seriously losing my shit.

Something has to give.

Mona opened the door and my head snapped up. Before she could close it, I was on her again, reaching for her hand to draw her through the opening, shutting the door, and pushing her back against it.

Unthinkingly, acting on pure instinct, I fit my hands under her T-shirt, seeking her skin. Smoothing my palms up, down, and then around her sides to her back, I touched my lips to hers. My heart suddenly in my throat, my irate internal rantings about her shitty siblings faded to background noise. Suddenly, I didn’t want to talk or think about them at all. I didn’t want to give them another second of this precious time.

Later. We would talk about it later. Much later.

“Hey,” she whispered, pressing her mouth to mine, catching my bottom lip with a quick nip, and then moving her inebriating kisses to my cheek, jaw, neck. “Are you okay?” she whispered against my ear. She’d also moved her hands under my shirt, pausing for a split second, and then pulling me closer.

I laughed, incredulous. “Are you kidding? I’m fantastic. Are you okay?”

She tucked her head under my chin, her ear over my heart. “I can’t think of a time I’ve ever been better.”

I laughed again, tightening my arms. Thank God she wasn’t pissed at me. Thank. God. I’d almost convinced myself she would be. This? Her reaction to my sudden appearance? It felt miraculous. Exhaling a long, quiet breath, I gave myself this miraculous moment, holding her, her holding me, and worked to memorize every touch, sight, smell—

“You shaved your beard,” she blurted, yanking me out of my reflections. The statement sounded accusatory.

For some reason it made me smile. “No, I didn’t. We just cut it closer.”

“A lot closer. It’s basically gone.”

“I can grow it back, if you want me to. It won’t take long. Just say the word.”

Mona wavered before saying, “I can’t decide. I love your wizard beard, but I’ve missed your dimples.”

My smile widened. “My dimples, huh?” If she wanted my dimples, they were all hers.

“Oh yes.” She turned her face and placed a kiss on my shirt in the center of my chest. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I can’t believe I’m here either.” I allowed her to lean back just far enough for our eyes to meet. Again, I noticed how puffy hers were, how red, and was assailed with a forceful and frustrated sense of helplessness. “Mona, please believe me, I did everything I could to find your number or Lisa’s number. I had Marie use her contacts—a security firm here in Chicago—and they found nothing under your name, no driver’s license, no utility bills. Only a passport with your mother’s PA’s phone number and the Chicago house address, nothing else.”

She gave me a wry smile. “Yeah. Sorry. That’s because—”

“You don’t have to apologize. I get it, you don’t want crazies tracking you down. My number and details are similarly obscured. But Leo wouldn’t give me Allyn’s last name, so I couldn’t call her either. I just need you to know, I did everything I could to reach you as soon as I could.”

“I could have called Leo for your number. I should have. I’m sorry too.”

“No, no. It was on me. I asked you to trust me.”

“I do trust you.” She beamed up at me, but I didn’t like the unsteadiness in her voice. It betrayed her words, made them ring false.

“Hey.” Cradling her cheek, I traced the line of her cheekbone with my thumb, and whispered, “I promise, I will never give you a reason to cry.”

Mona’s lips pressed together into a wobbly smile, her eyes glassy.

I groaned. “What’s this? Tears?” I kissed her eyelids.

She laughed and rolled her eyes at herself. “Sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

I had my suspicions. My guess was that these tears were about many things, not just me, not just us. Of course, part of her upheaval over the last few days was about us. A lack of trust. She didn’t trust me, not yet, but it was clear she wanted to.