Space (Laws of Physics #2)(52)

I decided I didn’t want to know.

“Please.” Lila came to me, taking the glasses out of my hands. “You take Mona up. I’ve already put water and a pain reliever by her bed, and I’ll be up to check on her once we get this under control.”

When I hesitated, she laughed at me. “Really, it’s our job. How would you like it if I tried to record your songs or write your music? Now go.”

Heaving a sigh, I reluctantly passed the glasses over to her and nodded, feeling shitty about it. This wasn’t how I was raised. It felt wrong to leave them with a mess they hadn’t made.

Once I found Mona’s blanket, I dropped it over her back and scooped her up.

“Hey. Whoa, wait. Why is the room moving?”

Ignoring her, I turned for the stairs.

She was quiet until we were halfway up the first flight. “What are you doing?”

“Carrying you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re drunk and there are many stairs.”

“Oh yeah. I guess I am. It’s a good thing you’re so strong, and have this amazing body, otherwise we’d be shoulder hoofing it.”

“Shoulder hoofing?”

“You know, I put my arm around your shoulder, you put your arm around my waist, we try to make it work, but someone is going to fall down the stairs.” Her eyes were concentrated on the side of my face. In my peripheral vision I saw her lick her lips. “What do you think about my ice cream idea?”

I stiffened, shoving away thoughts about that, and had the wherewithal to change the subject. “Why did you take off your shirt before your socks?”

“My feet are cold. Also, I never told you, I love the way you smell.”

My steps faltered. I blinked, flexed my jaw.

“I’m sorry.” She sounded sorry. “Did that make you feel uncomfortable? If I’m making you feel uncomfortable, I’ll be quiet.”

“No. That didn’t make me feel uncomfortable.”

“Good. Because I need to talk to someone about it, and I’ve never mentioned it to anyone—the way you smell—because it’s not something people talk about, but I always want to talk about it.”

“You always want to talk about how I smell?” I paused at the landing, lifting her higher and readjusting my hold before taking the next flight.

“Yes. Sometimes, when people ask how I’m doing, I want to say: better if I could sniff Abram.”

I rolled my lips between my teeth to keep from laughing, keeping my eyes forward.

She wasn’t finished. “It’s like how chocolate, the really good kind, melts in your mouth. That’s what you do, smelling you, does to my body. I am chocolate, and your smell is the mouth in this analogy, and I just . . . melt.”

I swallowed. “Maybe you shouldn’t talk.”

“Why? Am I making you uncomfort—”

“No. But you might not remember any of this tomorrow. I don’t want you to say anything you’ll regret.”

“Well, I will remember it tomorrow, so you don’t have to worry about that. And, as for regretting it, I don’t think I will. I mean, I’ll be cosmically embarrassed, that’s for sure, but I’ll take it like a woman.”

“Take it like a woman?” I smiled at the way she’d modified the take it like a man turn of phrase.

“Yes. I’ll accept responsibility, apologize, be sensitive to your concerns, work to modify my behavior in the future, and suggest we try to find a way forward with minimal awkwardness. You know, take it like a woman.”

“What would take it like a man look like? In comparison?”

She shrugged, sighed, rested her head against my shoulder. “I don’t know. I guess, pretend it didn’t happen? Put on a brave face? Take you out for a beer?”

I scoffed. “That’s what you think of men?”

“What’s wrong with beer and bravery? I think very highly of men. Well, of some men. I think highly of you, and Poe, and Leo, and Dr. Goldblatt, and Melvin, and you.”

“You already said me.”

“But I think very highly of you, so you deserve to be mentioned twice.” She paused, seemed to be contemplating the issue, and then asked, “Do you want me to take you out for a beer instead? Because I can take it like a man. We could arm wrestle! FEATS OF STRENGTH!” She shoved an arm into the air.

“Shh. Mona, people are asleep.” Again, I pressed my lips together so I wouldn’t laugh.

“Sorry. And sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable.”

We reached her floor. I could’ve set her down and sent her on her way, watched her from a distance to make sure she made it into her room.

Instead, I carried her. I was enjoying her honesty, even if it was fueled by whiskey. “You’re not going to say anything that will make me feel uncomfortable, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

“I bet I can.”

“I doubt it.” I used her feet to push her door open and stepped inside.

“How much do you want to bet?”

“Nothing, because I’ll win.” Glancing around at the huge space, I decided setting her on the window seat made the most sense. It wasn’t as close as the bed. But it wasn’t the bed.