Chapter Fifteen
T he next week flew by so quickly, Zaf barely had enough time to be anxious. He still managed, obviously. But it was a tight squeeze.
Dani went into overdrive, preparing for the symposium, and Zaf . . . well, Zaf did what he could. There d been a moment, on the night he d brought her dinner, when he d thought he d ruined everything. That he d been too honest, hinted too hard, reached for something bright and been doomed to burn.
Then she d surprised him. Danika always surprised him.
Wait. Please.
They still didn t talk about their feelings or sleep in the same bed.
But that meadow of affection he d been trying to starve, the one that bloomed inside his chest for her?
All of a sudden, she wouldn t let it die.
When they had lunch together, her feet nudged his under the table where no one could see.
When they rode the library elevator alone, she played with his hair.
One night, after sex, she put her arm around him with such painful awkwardness, it took Zaf a while to realize what she was doing.
Is this cuddling? he asked, incredulous. Just straight cuddling, no sex? Is that a thing we do?
Quiet, Ansari. She smothered him with a pillow until he tickled her into submission.
Before long, he started coming over early to cook dinner. She d eat saag paneer with one hand, the other clutching a book. Sorry, she d say every so often. I m-sorry. I m busy. You don t have to do this.
I know, he d say. I want to.
She d smile, and eat, and read. He d crack out his laptop and catch up on work. But when the clock struck nine, without fail, she d pull the computer gently from his grip and drag him off to the bedroom.
Not that he was complaining.
On one of those near-perfect nights, it happened. Zaf, his nerve endings still tingling from his orgasm, was pressing Dani against the living room wall as he kissed her good-bye. They did that, now: they kissed good-bye, like a couple who couldn t wait to see each other again.
All right, he panted against her lips. All right. I m going. He stepped back, already missing her.
Instead of opening the door to kick him out, she hesitated. Wait. I, erm, mumfupdumpin, she mumbled, padding over to the kitchen.
He squinted after her. You what?
Silence as she riffled through a drawer, then returned, clutching a little black pouch in her hands. She cleared her throat. I made you something. And then, while his brain was still processing those words, she shoved the pouch at him like a toddler presenting a finger painting.
Except this definitely wasn t a finger painting. He took it, a smile spreading over his face and a whole herd of feelings rampaging through his chest. Butterflies, birds of fucking paradise, all that shit.
You made this, he repeated. For me? Through the black gauze, he felt dried-out plants and little stones.
She nodded, looking like she might die of embarrassment. Um. Yes.
He still had no fucking clue what it was, but- It smells like you. Like peace and candlelight.
A hint of pleasure warmed her features, erasing her self-consciousness. It s a charm. It ll help you sleep. I know you don t like taking your meds when you have to get up in the morning, so I thought maybe-
You thought you d make me this, he said, emotion spilling from his voice without permission. His feelings for Dani were like sunlight: they d always find a crack to slip through, a way to light things up. Careful, Danika. Keep being so sweet and I might think you give a damn.
She pursed her lips. Well. You re no use to me if you re too tired to get it up.
Bullshit.
Be quiet. She grabbed a handful of his shirt, dragged him closer, and kissed him again.
Changing. Everything was changing.
But time slipped through Zaf s fingers like sand, and the end of their deal loomed like an axe over his head.
When their fake relationship became unnecessary, would she take the leap with him and start something real?
Another man might assume the answer was yes, but he knew Danika well enough to realize that soft touches and significant looks meant nothing. When she made a decision, she spoke .
She hadn t spoken yet.
The Friday before the symposium was full moon night, which meant Zaf found himself banned from Dani s flat and discouraged from calling. Something about a standing date with Sorcha, witchy business, and the baffling quality of heterosexual energy. He decided not to follow that particular thread.
But the next day, Saturday, dawned bright and brilliant.
He got up with a smile on his face and a determination to put his pining on the back burner, because today was about one thing and one thing only: Dani sitting on a panel beside her idol.
So he combed his hair into something like an actual style, dressed carefully, and used the beard oil Kiran always badgered him about.
Then he made his way over to Dani s flat, knocked three times, and waited.
And waited. And waited.
Just when he was wondering if he d missed a pretty vital text, the door burst open and there she stood, wild-eyed and . . . brown-haired?
I m sorry, she said, sorry, sorry, sorry. I heard you, but I didn t hear you.
That s o- She was already gone, whirling so fast, her black dress fluttered around her shins.
Zaf shut the door and watched her pace across the room, muttering to herself under her breath, her hands rubbing that newly dyed hair.
There was a pile of books and paper in the middle of the floor and a small mountain of shoes by the desk that looked like they might have been thrown.
The candles on her little goddess table were burning, surrounded by half-empty mugs of different-colored tea.
So, he said, you seem perky.
Dani ignored him.
And obviously in a very healthy place right now.
She ignored him harder. A passing bystander might claim she hadn t done anything at all, but they would be wrong.
He sat on the arm of the sofa and said, Want to talk about it?
She turned to glare at him, which was progress. You are profoundly annoying and extremely troublesome.
Good thing I have a big dick.
There was a flicker of surprise, a hint of a smile. Shut up.
Come here. He caught her hand, pulled her closer. Yesterday at lunch, you were fine. Now your hair is brown and your laptop is balanced upside down like a tent on your kitchen counter, all of which suggests you re losing your shit. Want to tell me why?
She raised a defensive hand to her curls. It s not brown! It s very dark blue.
Danika. I ve seen your hair blue. That s brown.
She folded her arms over her chest and made a strangled, jerky sound, kind of like a frustrated kitten. Well, maybe it is! Maybe I need to look as ordinary as possible to make up for the fact that I don t know what the hell I m doing.
There has not ever, Zaf said mildly, been a time when you didn t know what you were doing. Including your actual birth. I m pretty sure about that.
I just-after you left, I may or may not have had a rather unpleasant nightmare, in which I made a complete fool of myself in front of Inez Holly -it was always Inez Holly , Zaf had learned, and never Professor Holly or Inez - and she gave me a look of chilling disdain midpanel in front of everyone-
Danika, Zaf began.
And then she got me thrown off my Ph.D. for being so utterly useless-
Sweetheart, come on. She doesn t even work at our-
And then she called someone who knew someone, and they somehow stripped me of my master s, which-
He caught Dani s face in his hands, held her gaze with his. Which is not ever going to happen. Do you know who you sound like right now?
She scowled at him, but she didn t pull away. No, she muttered. Who?
Me, he said softly. You sound anxious, you sound under pressure, you sound like me. Happens to the best of us. So we re going to try something, okay?
He saw her throat bob as she swallowed. He waited for a sarcastic comment, for a deflection, but one didn t come. Instead, she said quietly, Okay. What?
We re going to breathe together.
She arched an eyebrow. And by that you mean . . .
He laughed. Just trust me, okay?
I do, she said, and those two little words all but knocked him out.
Slowly, he drew her into a hug. Zaf knew, logically, that Danika wasn t a small woman-actually, that was one of the things he liked about her.
But sometimes, she really felt small. Like right now, when the tension leaked out of her, drop by drop, and she relaxed slowly into his arms. Zaf kissed the top of her head, then pressed his nose into her hair and breathed deeply.
Once, twice, as many times as it took, until her breathing slowed, too, and they were in calm, steady synch.
It was good, doing this for someone-with someone-instead of just himself. Perfect, doing it for Danika. Time seemed to slow, or dissolve, or disappear, and his heart rate sank so low he was either totally at peace or a little bit dead.
Eventually, she tipped her head back to look at him. Thanks, she murmured.
Anytime. Seriously, anytime. All the time. Forever. Just say the word. Holy shit, please say the word before I die.
Instead of reading his mind, she took a breath and raised a hand to her own chest. He knew she was touching the gemstones beneath her dress, reminding herself what each one meant to her. Finally she murmured, I can t keep doing this.
He arched an eyebrow. Breathing?
Danika s glare, as always, was a thing of beauty and impressive venom.
This, she repeated. Fixating on my goals, pouring all my energy into my work until there s nothing left.
She faltered, swallowed hard, and Zaf s heart squeezed.
He tried to remember if he d ever heard Dani address the obsessive way she worked, and came up blank.
There d be a self-conscious joke here, a wry comment there-but the way she was looking at him now, solemn and serious, was different. This was different.
He held her closer, kissed her temple, and waited.