“I don’t live up here.”
His tone was even, but the words were clipped as they registered in my brain, and I found myself irritated that he seemed to think it would be the worst thing in the world if things were different. Or maybe I was defensive. After all, it wasn’t just Safia’s life he was dismissing. It was my family’s entire history.
But the spike in my blood didn’t last long. Rami was tired, in more ways than one. Andhislife was closing in on him. My sensitivities weren’t important. “I’m sorry it’s tough for you up here. I guess I’d kind of assumed it would be better with your people around you.”
“It is better. It’s just—fuck, I’m sorry. I’m just a moody bastard and I’m pissed off with myself.”
“Why?”
He shrugged, and the gesture seemed so helpless that I put my hands on his shoulders as if it was the most natural and normal thing in the world. As if we hadn’t spent eighteen long months apart with nothing but dead silence between us.
“Hey.” I gave him a gentle squeeze. “You want to escape for a few hours later?”
“Escape?”
“I’m heading into town to check up on our pop-up shop in the village. If you came with me, we could get a pint after? Maybe have that date we missed out on back in Manchester?”
A spark flared in Rami’s dark gaze, overshadowing the stress that had clouded his expression before. “You realise you never actually asked me out, right? So I never said yes.”
“You would’ve done, though.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” I knew he would’ve. And I knew how it would’ve gone down too. I’d have taken him to the ale bar on the corner just before the madness of Canal Street began. We’d have sunk three pints of whatever looked good, then gone for a walk, hand-in-hand, before I’d kissed him beneath a streetlight, our skin damp from the light spring rain.
I squeezed him again. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
Rami closed his eyes. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I would’ve said yes.”
“And then what?”
Rami opened his eyes and fixed me with his dirtiest grin. “And then I guess we’d never have looked at each other in the same way again.”
Okay, so he clearly had a different idea of how first dates went down and I was willing to compromise.
Sowilling, as long as it made him smile like that. “Say yes now. I know everything is different and complicated, but we’re still the same people.”
“Are we?” Rami covered my hands with his and his gaze turned complex again. “How can that be true when so much has happened to both of us?”
He had me there, and I didn’t have an answer that wasn’t knee-deep in emotions I spent most of my life these days trying to avoid.
I nodded slowly and hung my head. “You’re right.”
“About what?”
“All of it, I just—”
“What?”
I forced my head up again, noticing for the first time that someone had drawn a rudimentary snowman on his neck. It looked a hell of a lot better than the puncture scar on mine, and I laughed.
Rami frowned. “What’s so funny?”
“This.” I rubbed at it with my thumb. “Addie, right? He’s always got a Sharpie in his pocket.”