Now I’m standing in a dusty, tarp filled room devoid of furniture and, once more, it feels like things are swirling around me too fast.
Will materializes from one of the long hallways as Jonah sets the small duffle bag he had at the hospital down in the living room. The man I consider to be my best friend and brother grins broadly and says to us, in an accent thick and rich from his childhood in Glasgow, “It’s about time.”
Two choices flit through my mind: the ass kicking I so richly imagined in the hospital yesterday or a tongue-lashing. But then I realize neither of these will do. I choose instead to throw my arms around him and squeeze tightly. It feels good to hug my friend. Comfortable. Familiar in the midst of upheaval, even though I’m struggling against the urge to rake him across the coals.
“I had to sign a lot of papers.” My voice is stronger today, coarse as a cat’s tongue but not so hard to get out. “They wouldn’t let me go until every last one was signed and gone over.” Not to mention, I’d gotten talked into one last night of being monitored by Shamans, just in case. I didn’t really know what the just in case was for, but my acquiescence made the twins relax a bit, so it wasn’t much of a sacrifice.
Jonah’s not relaxed right now, though. He held my hand the entire way here from the hospital, fingers tightly wrapped around mine, like he was afraid somebody was going to swoop in and snatch me away. Enlilkian would never be so obvious, though. If we have been playing a game, like he claims, he’s going to wait until exactly the right moment to find me again. A moment in which I’m not ready, because what fun is it for the cat to catch a mouse fully prepared?
Gods, I need to be ready. I also need to tell Jonah what I’ve speculated. Yesterday ended up being too crazy with all of the new plans shifting around to find a moment for a quiet talk.
“You know,” Will is saying, “it seems to me that as Magicals are supposedly an advanced race, tedious paperwork would be nothing more than a memory. Isn’t there a craft where a bloke has perfect memory or whatnot?”
I can’t help but laugh. “If only.” A quick glance around precedes, “Where’s Cameron?”
“Downstairs in Kellan’s flat.” He points at the floor below us, tapping his foot. “We’ve been playing phone tag while going over blueprints and think we might have finally found a spot that would be ideal for both locations to insert a staircase into. Have you been giving it any further thought what you might want it to look like?”
“Uh, no.” I nudge Jonah, who is busy checking messages on his phone. “Have you?”
He glances up from the screen, confused. “Huh?” It’s stuffed back into his pocket. “Sorry. I ignored work issues over the last week and they’ve sort of begun to pile up.”
I can only imagine what my phone looks like right now. There are probably a zillion notifications filling up the screen. But I’d rather not think of that right now. I curl a hand around the back of his neck and plant a soft kiss right below his ear. Good lords, he smells so good. “I’m sorry you had to go through that because of me.”
His head shifts and dips down toward mine. My pulse stutters as he gently brushes his lips across mine, all blooming fireworks sparkling through my veins. “All that matters is that you are okay.” Then, to Will, “You were talking about staircases?”
If I’m not mistaken, Will’s a wee bit uncomfortable with his current third wheel status. The urge to giggle at this awkwardness intensifies when he tugs on his collar. “Yeah. The location kind of depends on the sort you want.” He reaches out and pokes my shoulder. “If Chloe here fancies herself a grand staircase, that pretty much blows Dad’s plans.”
“Rats.” The sigh I let loose is all exaggerated displeasure. “There goes that dream.”
He rolls his eyes and motions us down a hallway. “As this is hopefully a short term architectural alteration, we figured it would be best to be as obscure as possible. You’ve both got laundry rooms at the south ends of the flats.” An accordion door is opened up to show a sink, bare cupboards, and hookups in the walls. That reminds me—I ought to pick us out some washers and dryers, or at the very least, make us some. Will motions to the end. “There are these brilliant pantry-like rooms—maybe for storage? I’m not sure. They’re large enough, though, that we could probably fit a wee staircase through both.” He opens the door on the far wall to feature a small empty room lined with shelves. “And by we, I mean Chloe.”
Jonah says, “I feel really lame right now, because I don’t think I’ve ever looked behind this door before.” He glances around the room. “Or, to be honest, even knew it existed.”
“How have you kept your clothes clean?” I can’t help but tease.
That dimple I adore so much appears as a small flush decorates his tan cheeks. “Uh ... we sort of hired a laundry service. Or, I guess I just started using Kellan’s by default.”