Because It Is My Blood (Birthright #2)(4)

I curled into the familiar burgundy chair.

“Seriously, Gable,” I said. “You look amazingly good.”

“You look awful,” Gable replied.

“Gable,” Scarlet admonished him.

“What? She looks like a little boy or a long-distance runner. Didn’t they feed you anything in there?” Gable continued. “And your hair is scary.”

My hair was indeed tangled and frizzy. There hadn’t been conditioner or gel or even a proper hairbrush at Liberty. As soon as Gable and Scarlet left, I would begin addressing the situation.

“How’s Trinity?” I asked by way of changing the subject. Gable was repeating his senior year because of how much of the previous one he’d missed.

“Boring now that you’re not there,” Gable said with a shrug. “No one’s been shot or poisoned for months.”

One of Gable’s qualities was his sense of humor.

“Gable Arsley,” Scarlet said with a furrowed brow, “you are being awful and you are making me regret having brought you today.”

“Apologies, Anya, if I caused offense.”

I told him that he hadn’t, that I was pretty hard to offend these days.

Scarlet stood up. “We should go. Imogen made us promise that we wouldn’t stay long.” She gave Gable her hand, and he rose somewhat awkwardly to his feet. That was when I remembered the elevator. Gable had trouble walking across the room. He was never going to be able to make it down thirteen flights on crutches.

Upon consulting with Imogen, who then consulted with the building superintendent, it was determined that the elevator wouldn’t be repaired until the next morning. Gable would have to spend the night, a scheme that did not thrill me. If Gable was staying, Scarlet’s parents wouldn’t allow her to, and the last time Gable Arsley had almost spent the night in this apartment, it had not gone well.

I decided that Gable should sleep on the couch. I didn’t want him in Leo’s old room.

After these arrangements were made, I was finally able to slip away to my bedroom. I had been meaning to clean myself up, but instead I fell asleep on my bed. When I awoke, it was two in the morning, and the apartment was silent. I slipped out of my room and went down the hall to the shower.

I didn’t care how much water cost these days. I figured I was owed three or four showers. Of course, I lavished extra attention on my hair. O conditioner—an ugly word for such a beautiful thing!

After my shower, I detangled my hair and gave it some proper product and when I looked in the mirror, I thought I looked almost normal again. I wrapped my flowered bath towel around myself and went back to my bedroom.

The light was on. I wondered if I had forgotten to turn it off.

When I opened the door, Gable was sitting in the chair by my bed. He was dressed in a pair of Leo’s pajamas that Imogen must have lent him, and his crutches were propped by the dresser.

“Arsley,” I said, checking that my bath towel was secured under my arms. “You shouldn’t be in here.”

“Oh, Anya, don’t be so paranoid,” Gable said. “I heard you were awake, and I was awake, too, so I thought I’d keep you company.”

“I don’t want company after I get out of the shower, Arsley.”

“I … I won’t try to do anything to you, Anya, I swear. Just don’t make me get up yet. My leg swells at night. Let me sit here a bit. I promise I’ll keep my eyes closed while you change.”

“I’ve been in prison, Arsley, and if you try anything, so help me…” I opened my closet door so that I could discreetly put on my pajamas from behind it, and then I sat cross-legged on my bed. “So,” I said.

“I was thinking of the last time we were alone together in this room,” Gable said. “I know you think I behaved badly and I’m sorry for that. I did want to sleep with you that night, but I never would have forced you.”

I shook my head. “Is this you apologizing?”

“Yes, I guess it is. I’m almost glad the elevator broke because otherwise I never would have gotten you by yourself and I’ve wanted to say that to you for such a long time. It’s sweltering in here by the way.” Gable took off his leather gloves and I could see that he had three silver fingertips in place of his amputations. He looked like a robot.

“Arsley, your fingers!”

Gable laughed at me. “You’re supposed to pretend not to notice them.”

“But they’re kind of amazing.”

He waved them. “Would you like to touch them, Anya?”

I kind of did, but I didn’t think it was a good idea for me to touch any parts of Gable, even his bionic ones.

“Come on, Anya. Shake my hand. Friends can shake hands, can’t they?”

We were not friends.

“Don’t be boring, Anya,” Gable said. “Do you know what school you’re going to yet?”

“Wherever will have me, I suppose.”

“It’s stupid them not letting you come back,” Gable said. “You saved Win Delacroix’s life.”

It had not escaped my notice that Scarlet had stealthily avoided the subject of Win the entire afternoon. I did not want to hear news of Win from Gable Arsley of all people. Still, I would take what I could get. “Is Win”—I tried to make my voice casual—“back at Trinity this year?”