It isn’t until I’m actually at the door that I realise he’s just behind me. We walk in, and he stands in the kitchen looking too fucking big for the room. I chuckle a bit and go to the fridge, damn sure I never thought I’d see this day. Whatever we’ve been to each other through the years, friends isn’t it. And him being here now, all his finery and expensive aftershave with him, just seems fucking ridiculous.
“You want a beer?” I ask, grabbing a bottle out. He nods, surprisingly, and then takes them both off me to walk into the lounge. By the time I make the walk into him, he’s looking in my office. “Guess it’s not what you’re used to,” I say, getting to my chair.
He comes back out and gives the old room a once over, pushing the blanket she used to the arm of the other chair so he can sit. “No. Neve either, assuming she stayed here?"
I nod at that and look elsewhere.
"You're more than you once were, Noah. I don't know what to do about that.” The beer he’s holding gets uncapped with his hand alone, something I’d never see him being able to do, and he passes one over to me. “You’re making it rather difficult to dislike you at the moment. Certainly after you've proved your worth in more ways than the usual.”
I sip the beer, unsure what the fuck that means. Maybe my head’s just not in the right place for conversations yet, or maybe he’s talking in riddles like lawyers do. It’s not something I give a fuck for. Never have.
“Do you love her?”
The directness of the question surprises the fuck out of me, and I hover the bottle at my mouth. I’ve barely acknowledged that amount of interest to myself, and he wants to talk about that kind of shit?
I drink and look at the old ashes in the fireplace. Doesn’t really matter if I do or don’t, and him talking about it is probably just a way to make me feel like the lower class scum I am compared to them. He’ll find a way to make this amusing to himself in a minute, make sure I know my place is right under him where it’s always been.
“Doesn't matter,” I mutter in reply.
The blanket drops to the floor beside him and pulls my attention to it. That’s all I’ve got of her now. Perfume’s probably still all over it as well. And I guess I've got the memories. They'll never leave me whether I want them to or not.
The sombre thought makes me drink again, near draining the bottle because of the constant fucking confusion. She’s alive. That's all that matters. And with any luck, Stefan’s still safe where he is because of those heroics.
I did my job, did more than I needed to.
“Do. You. Love. Her?” he asks again.
My eyes roll, face falling sideways to look at him. “What the fuck do you want to hear, Landon? That I do? How’s that going to help anyone?” He drinks his own beer, no answer. “I know my place well enough. It isn’t with her. Pretty sure we all know that. Besides, she chose you over whatever I can provide. I offered, she refused.”
“Refused?”
“Yeah. Said she needed to deal with her family and wouldn’t leave them. Wouldn’t stay under the radar with me.”
He looks confused about something. Fucking nice to see, in all honesty. “She didn’t want to stay here with you?”
“Gave me some bullshit about needing to deal with you lot first, but I got the message loud and clear. Not surprising, given who we both are. I get it.”
“That’s unfortunate thinking, Noah. I think she'd rather like you with her from what she’s said to me. Absurd as that might be.” He stands and walks into the kitchen, leaving me scowling at those words and their meaning. Then he comes back a few seconds later. “Why isn’t there any food in your fridge?”
“What?”
“Food? I’m hungry. Police all day, my house has been blown up and now this conversation. I need food.”
“No. The first bit?”
He smiles a bit and digs in his pockets for his keys. “I’m going to get some food from that takeout a few miles away. What do you want?”
Food is the last thing on my mind.
“Don’t fuck around with this, Landon. What are you saying?”
“I think I just said it, didn't I? Don’t make me repeat my relative acceptance of the situation. I’m not entirely convinced it’s tolerable yet. We have more talking to work through, and you need to consider the consequences that will come for you if you screw this up.”
Well, fuck.
Chapter Twenty Six
NEVE
