The Conspiracy of Us
Page 62A laugh bubbled up, like champagne bubbles pushing past the ache in my chest.
“I told myself you couldn’t possibly feel the same way. I’m only a Keeper. Even if you were just a cousin, it would’ve been impossible, and once we realized what you really are . . .”
He trailed off. I thought about the Emirs’ Keeper, terminated when he was caught having a relationship with a family member.
I leaned my head back against the wall. My own father wouldn’t be so harsh, would he? And anyway, we could keep a secret. So maybe if we started something now, we’d have to stop it later to not get found out. I could deal with that when and if it happened. The stakes were bigger for Jack, and I didn’t want to put him in danger, but I was pretty sure he felt the same way I did. Some things were just worth the risk.
And suddenly, at least for the moment, I knew what I was longing for. I’d understand if he refused, but I had to say it.
“I want you to stay,” I blurted out.
At the exact time, he said, “Is it okay if I stay?”
“I don’t want to be alone, and we could be really careful and no one would know—”
“I don’t want to leave you alone. Anything could happen—”
“Right,” I said, butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I couldn’t believe I’d said that. I couldn’t believe it had worked. I stood up. “Yeah. Um. Come in.”
Jack’s face fell. “I . . .” He shook his head. “I can’t risk getting caught in your room.”
And then the crackling air burst open. Lightning tore apart the sky, and the clouds that had been threatening all day ripped apart.
I scrambled back through the window, dashing rain out of my eyes. Jack leapt to standing.
“You can come in,” I whispered. “It’s only us in here.”
He hesitated, but climbed in and huddled inches inside. He glanced back out like maybe he should leave after all. Then back at me like he didn’t want to.
I stood across from him awkwardly. I’d spent the past forty-eight hours running across Europe, being shot at, stealing antiquities, but I still couldn’t deal with one boy. I knew it was wrong, and I knew it was dangerous, but I didn’t want him to leave.
I crossed the room to the hallway door, made sure it was locked, and put the vanity chair under the doorknob. The rain hammered the roof, punctuated with pings off the metal railing. I thought I saw a smile on Jack’s face in the dark.
“Come in,” I whispered.
Water made my dress heavy and bulky, and in the bit of light from outside, I could see Jack’s shirt dripping, clinging to the lines of his body, and now I really couldn’t think.
“Clothes!” The word flew out of my mouth. No one would overhear. The rain was so loud now, I could barely hear myself. “Dry clothes! I can get you some.”
“Yeah, that’d be brilliant. Thanks.” I heard a smile in his voice. I hoped he couldn’t hear how flustered I was in mine.
I tossed him the pants and gestured to the bathroom, then turned back to the pajama drawer. Nightgowns, a lavender silk shorts and tank top set, lacy black lingerie . . .
My face got hot just looking at the lingerie. I pulled out the shorts and tank top and slammed the drawer.
When I’d changed into them and hung the wet dress on a hanger, I looked in the mirror. In the pale lamplight, I looked soft, romantic. My damp hair fell in waves, dark against my skin, and my eyes looked wider, darker than usual. My heart was too empty and too full at the same time.
I came out of the walk-in at the same time Jack opened the bathroom door. He wore only the pants I had given him, his bare upper body silhouetted against the bathroom light. A cool, rain-scented breeze blew through the open balcony window, and goose bumps rose on my skin.
We could just sleep next to each other. Just so I wouldn’t be alone.
Jack reached behind him to the bathroom light switch.
“You can sleep in the bed with me. If you want.” The words rushed out of my mouth before I could stop them. “I mean, I know it’s dangerous. And it’s up to you. But no one knows you’re here. And the bed’s really . . . big.”
As he flipped the switch, a flash of lightning made the room as bright as day, illuminating him, his lips parted, eyes wide.
Thunder crashed right on top of the lightning, so loud that it shook the floor. My heart, which had already been beating doubletime, hammered so hard my hands shook.
Jack stepped out from the bathroom door. “I think that means yes,” he said.
I slipped under the covers and shivered at the crisp cool of the sheets. I shivered again when I felt Jack climb in on the other side. I was in bed with Jack. I’d asked him to get into my bed. And he’d done it, despite the fact that being caught here would be very, very bad. I would never have imagined a boy spending the night in my bed to be a life-or-death situation.
Neither of us had closed the window, and the rain pounded down wildly. A gust of wind stirred the chandelier, and the crystals tinkled.
“Good night?” I whispered. I hadn’t meant for it to sound like a question.
“G’night,” he said after a second. He didn’t sound disappointed, which made me feel a little disappointed.
Whenever I slept over at Lara’s, I barely knew there was another person in the bed. Now, though, I could sense the heat radiating off Jack’s body, feel every shift of the covers.
Jack moved closer. If not for the rain, my full-body buzz might be audible by now. I shifted, too, a minuscule movement toward the middle of the bed. And then my pinky finger touched a body part that wasn’t my own, and my buzz short-circuited. Jack’s fingers twined around mine until I could feel his pulse where they interlaced.
I tried to calm my racing heart. Holding his hand—even in my bed—was nothing. But it didn’t feel like nothing. The warmth of his bare arm against mine edged out the cool of the sheets, and the band of tension around my chest started to relax. It was like even though I’d said all the wrong things outside, Jack had heard exactly what I meant.