But I can tell by the look in his bloodshot eyes he has no appetite. “You need to eat something.” We’re standing in the side parking lot of C&C garage next to Janine’s car. She let me borrow it to come see him, and now that I have I don’t want to leave.
“I will,” Drew says, but I’m not convinced.
“When?”
My insistent tone seems to wake him out of his stupor, at least for a moment. His smile lifts just a little higher. “Easy, Guppy.” His voice is a gentle rumble, and the words let me know he’s okay. He’s tired. He’s hurting. But he’s okay.
As if to drive this fact home, he sets the takeout on top of the car, grabs me by the wrists, and wraps my arms around his sturdy waist before he closes his arms around me. He’s big. Warm. Wonderful.
Drew’s lips are against my hair, and I hear and feel him hum. The sound is relief and gratitude and satisfaction all in one. At least, that’s exactly what I feel.
“I’m glad I have Annie, and I’m fucking grateful I have this job, but Evie,” he says, his words low and meant for me only. “You — having you — that’s what makes me feel like I can handle what’s coming.”
I draw back just enough to meet his eyes. He’s letting me see all the way in, and I witness sadness and pain. I don’t miss the fear either, but he’s also looking at me. Looking at me like I’m his cosmic reward.
My heart might be able to lift me off the ground. Because he’s my cosmic reward. If I’ve succeeded in being good and loving and conscious, he’s the boon for all of that and more.
“Like a promise?” I say, gazing up at him as though he were the covenant of all the gods.
Confusion forms a line between his brows. “Like a reason,” he says.
“A reason?” Now I’m the one wearing the confused frown.
Drew shuts his eyes for a moment, shaking his head. “Never mind. Don’t listen to me. I’m too tired to make sense.”
But I bring a hand up to his chest and place it, instinctively, over his heart. “No, tell me. What do you mean?”
He watches me for a while, and I see the moment when he relents. I don’t think anyone else would notice the subtlest shift. The muscles in his face. The easing around his eyes. The way his shoulders lower just a touch.
I’ve learned him by heart.
“I matter to you.” He says the words slowly, and they still almost knock me over.
“Well, of course you do. You mean the world to me.” A sudden flame of indignance licks up my spine.
The left side of his mouth hitches up. “And you let me know it. It’s just—” He shakes his head again. “Families are weird.”
I snort. “Tell me about it.”
This brings a half-chuckle from him, and he squeezes me tighter. “Yeah? Well, with mine, I don’t know how things will fall out without Grandma around.” He frowns down at me. “I have my job here because Grandma browbeat my cousin into giving me one.”
I bite my lip. “You don’t think he’d fire you after…” I can’t bring myself to say it. Drew’s cousin wouldn’t do that. Would he?
A wince passes over his face. “I hope not.” Drew shrugs. “He doesn’t avoid me like he did when I first started. He seems to like my work, but…”
“But you aren’t sure,” I say, thinking of the terms of his parole. But then I get ahold of myself. “Scarcity is an illusion.”
Drew narrows his gaze, but his non-smile is open for business. “What?”
“The universe is a place of abundance, so fearing the loss of something you have like a job or a car is really foolish,” I explain. “Everything you need already exists. If you lose this job, there will be another one to take its place, and you will learn something from both the leaving and the taking.”
“You see, Guppy,” Drew says, cocking a brow in amusement, “This is why I’m such a lucky bastard. If everyone in my family but Annie turns their backs on me, I still have you to teach me all this cosmic truth shit.”
I swat him lightly on the chest, and he laughs.
“It’s not shit,” I defend, but this only makes him laugh harder.
“I know it’s not shit. I just like getting you worked up.”