A Want So Wicked (A Need So Beautiful #2)(51)

The old memory I had of us fighting on the phone comes back to me. I’d hurt him then, kept the Need from him. I lied to him. “So maybe we do it differently this time,” I offer. “We should tell each other everything. Always.”

Harlin checks his bandage. “Okay,” he says. After a moment he puts his good arm over the back of the sofa, turning toward me. “What else can I tell you?”

“Tell me about Monroe Swift.”

“Monroe was your Seer. More than that, really. You’d known him most of your life; he knew your family. He helped you toward the end, even if I didn’t approve of his methods.”

“Meaning?”

“Lies. Secrets.” Harlin swallows hard. “I understand more now, but at the time I was angry. Now I know that Seers aren’t allowed to talk about their Forgotten. We’re not allowed to tell anyone. It’s our pact—our way to keep the light safe from the Shadows. We lead the Forgotten to their destiny and then remember their path.” There is sorrow in Harlin’s voice. “It’s not an easy life, Elise. It’s very lonely.”

“You were there,” I say, drawing his gaze to mine. “I had a memory, and you were there with me when I went off that bridge. You told me you’d remember everything.”

“I do remember everything,” he says. “I remember every minute of our lives together. And other than Monroe, I guess I’m the only one who does.”

Sadness spreads through my chest. “I’m sorry I’m someone else.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he says. “I love you. I’ll love you no matter who you are.” His fingers find mine, intertwining. “I just want us to be together. I want you to stop leaving.”

“Believe me. I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

“I won’t let you this time,” Harlin says. “I’ll fight for you.” I can feel his resolve, his absolute belief in his promise. I look over his bandage, upset when I think about his injuries.

“How did you get in that accident?” I ask. “You strike me as an experienced rider.”

“I’m a perfect rider,” Harlin says, straightening and clenching his jaw. “Someone tampered with my bike, and to be honest, I’m seriously pissed about it.”

I widen my eyes. “Didn’t notice.”

Harlin chuckles. “God I’ve missed you,” he says. “Where have you been for the last nine months? Where were you hiding?”

“Colorado.”

“I should have driven through Colorado, then.”

“Maybe you should have.”

He rests his head against the back of the couch as he watches me. “Have you . . .” His voice is unsure, worried. “Have you dated anyone?”

I laugh, partly embarrassed. “Unless you count one misguided date with a coworker, I’ve never gone out with anyone.”

“Abe?”

My heart skips a beat. “You know about Abe?”

“I’ve never met a Shadow before,” he says. “But I could see exactly what he was the day he came up to you in front of Marceline’s, see the darkness surrounding him. Most Shadows hide from Seers, but he wanted me to know what he was.”

Despite what I’ve learned, there’s a part of me that is still crushed about Abe. “He was my friend,” I say quietly. “I thought he was.”

“Shadows can make you believe almost anything.”

“So what do I do now?” I ask. “How do I see Abe, knowing what he is?”

“You don’t. You stay far away from him. He’s dangerous.”

I agree, but avoiding Abe is going to be harder than Harlin thinks. I know his persistence. Closing my eyes, I force the thought away. Right now, I want at least a second of normal. So when Harlin wraps his arm around me, I lean into him.

We watch The Daily Show, and soon Harlin’s breathing is deep and I think that he may be asleep. When the show ends, I yawn, and Harlin stirs.

“I’m sorry,” I say, lifting my head.

“Don’t be,” he answers, and rubs his eyes. “Can’t believe I would sleep through snuggling. Maybe I have a concussion.”

“I would accept that as a valid excuse.”

“Here,” Harlin says, opening his arms. “Let’s try it again.” I hesitate before leaning against his chest, my entire body relaxing the minute I do.

Harlin’s hand touches my hair, his fingers running down the length of it past my shoulder. “I can’t believe I found you,” he murmurs. “I’ve needed you so much.” The emotion in his voice brings tears to my eyes. I wonder what Harlin’s been through, and how much he’s lost.

“You have me now,” I say. Harlin sighs, holding me close. When he starts to drift off again, I sit up. “I should go to bed,” I say. “Oh, here.” I grab the blankets. “These are for you.”

Harlin takes them and stretches out on the couch, extending his arms over his head as he groans, showing off a small sliver of skin between his shorts and his T-shirt. I help cover him with a sheet, since he has limited use of his arm, and when I’m standing over him, he turns his face toward me with the most sinfully innocent expression I’ve ever seen.