Chapter 54

I lean against the counter, and watch Locke move through his space. He’s so comfortable and relaxed here, it’s obvious that he loves his home. Something about that unexpectedly squeezes my chest, I think because I’ve spent so much time seeing him in clubhouses and bars and parking lots, and not once have I ever stopped to wonder who he is when nobody’s looking. 

When he’s being this man, this version of him The one opening drawers and pulling fine china plates from shelves and asking whether I want green tea with dinner, like we’re a couple, instead of two people who accidentally fell into each other’s lives at exactly the wrong moment. 

Or maybe exactly the right one. 

Thirty minutes later, we’re sitting at a long dining table beside the windows, with sushi spread between us. The ocean has disappeared into darkness, leaving only scattered fights dancing across the water. The city glows below, the apartment glows around us. It’s all so absurd, and wonderful, and entirely unexpected. 

I curl my fingers around the stem of my wine glass and study him across the table. The sleeves of his shirt are pushed up, and his tattoos are very dark in the half-light. His blond hair is falling over his forehead, the curves of his muscles are clearly visible through his t-shirt. 

He’s beautiful. Infuriatingly so. 

“Can I ask you something?” I say.