Two Can Keep a Secret(60)
Ellery’s liquid dark eyes hold mine. “It’s been an awful week for you, hasn’t it?”
“I saw what Declan went through, remember?” Images of a futuristic city with dark, rain-slicked streets flash across the screen in front of us. The hero is on the ground, cowering as a couple of muscle-bound, leather-clad guys loom over him. He’s not half-cyborg yet, so he’s about to get his ass kicked. “This was better.”
Ellery shifts beside me. “But he had a whole history with Lacey. It’s not like you were Brooke’s boyfriend, or …” She hesitates briefly. “Her best friend.”
We managed to go almost fifteen minutes without poking the elephant in the room. Good for us, I guess.
“Do you think we should show the police what we found?” I ask.
Ellery chews her lip. “I don’t know. I’m kind of worried about how I got it, to be honest. And it might look sketchy to have you involved. Plus I still don’t trust Ryan Rodriguez.” She frowns at the television screen. “Something’s off with that guy.”
“There are other police officers,” I say. But Officer McNulty is the lead on this case, and the thought of talking to him again makes my stomach churn.
“The thing is … I’ve been wondering about something.” Ellery picks up the remote like she’s about to change the channel, but juggles it meditatively in her hand instead. “Assuming our leap of logic is right and Katrin actually”—she lowers her voice to a near whisper—“ran over Mr. Bowman. Do you think, um, that’s all she did?”
I try to swallow a piece of popcorn, but I can’t. My throat is too dry. I take a deep gulp of my drink before answering Ellery, and while I do, I think about Katrin gliding down our stairs today with that masklike expression. The way she’d thrown me under the bus when I was first questioned. The scared look in her eyes the day of Peter’s search party. “What do you mean?”
“Well.” Ellery says the word slowly, reluctantly, like someone’s prying it out of her. “I should probably preface this by saying … I think about crime a lot. Like, an abnormal amount. I get that. It’s sort of a problem. So you have to take what I say with a grain of salt, because I’m just this … naturally suspicious person, I guess.”
“You suspected me, right? For a while.” Ellery freezes, eyes wide. Shit, I didn’t mean to come out with that. I almost apologize and change the subject. But I don’t, because now that I’ve said it, I want to hear her response.
“I … I honestly hate that I’m like this, Mal.” I think that might be the first time she’s ever called me by my nickname, but before I can process that momentous occasion, I’m horrified to see her eyes water. “It’s just— I grew up never knowing what happened to my aunt. Nobody would tell me anything, so I’d read terrible crime stories to try to understand. But all that did was make me more confused and paranoid. Now I’m at the point where I feel like I can’t trust anybody who’s not my literal twin.” A tear slips down her cheek. She drops the remote onto the couch to swipe angrily at her cheek, leaving a red mark on her pale skin. “I don’t know how to relate to people. Like, I pretty much only ever had one friend before I moved here. Then I met you and Mia, and you guys were so great, but all this happened and … I’m sorry. I didn’t really think that about you, but I did … think about it. If that makes sense. It probably doesn’t.”
A knot releases in my chest. “It does. It’s okay. Look, I get it.” I gesture around the room. “Check out my big homecoming night. Not sure if you noticed, but I have only one friend, too. I said it in the kitchen, right? We have screwed-up family histories. It’s crap most of the time, but it does mean I understand you. And I … like you.”
I move the popcorn bowl onto the coffee table and put a tentative arm around her. She sighs and leans into me. I mean it as a friendly hug, mostly, but her hair’s tumbling across one eye, so I push it back, and before I know it both my hands are cupping her cheeks. Which feels really good. Ellery’s eyes are steady on mine, her lips curved in a small, questioning smile. I draw her face closer and before I can overthink it, I kiss her.
Her mouth is soft and warm and just a little bit buttery. Heat spreads through me slowly as she slides her hand up my chest and around the back of my neck. Then she nips lightly at my bottom lip, and the heat turns into an electric jolt. I wrap my arms around her and pull her half on my lap, kissing her lips and the skin between her jaw and her collarbone. She pushes me back against the pillows and molds her body to mine and, holy hell, this night is going a lot better than I expected.
A loud, clattering noise makes both of us freeze. Somehow we dislodged the remote and sent it flying across the floor. Ellery sits up just as my mother’s voice, which is much too close for someone who’s supposed to be upstairs, calls, “Malcolm? Is everything all right?”
Crap. She’s in the kitchen. Ellery and I disentangle as I call, “Fine. We just dropped the remote.” We put a foot between us on the couch, both of us red-faced with sheepish grins, waiting for my mother’s response.
“Oh, okay. I’m making hot chocolate, do you want some?”
“No thanks,” I say, as Ellery tries to get her curls under control. My hands are itching to mess them up again.