“But when Rudy brought you here—didn’t he give you money or anything?”
“He did. He had money and clothing and a room at the YMCA waiting for me, but I wanted to stay close tonight. To keep an eye on you.” His eyes slink away, and I wonder if he’s still worried about Ben.
“Hi, Finn!” Danny says from right behind me.
“Danny, go to bed,” I say, without looking at him. “It’s late.”
“Okay. Bye, Finn.” He waves.
“Good night, Danny,” Finn replies. “See you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow!” Danny echoes, as he walks down the hall to his room.
I turn back to Finn. “Come on,” I say, keeping my voice low so my father doesn’t wake up. “You can hang in my room for the night.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
“Finn, it’s freezing out here.”
“It’s not so bad,” he says, but I can see his breath when he says it.
“Yes, it is,” I say. He stares at me a minute, deciding.
“Yes, it is,” he agrees, stepping inside. “It’s really cold. And you’ve got a giant spiderweb behind that shed, did you know that? It’s like a miniature spider city. It’s really spectacular.”
I lead him carefully down the hall and into my room, shutting the door as quietly as possible and locking it to be safe. I stand and listen for a moment, but all I hear is Danny’s TV because he sleeps with it on all night. It should provide sound cover, since he’s right next door to my father’s room and I’m down the hall from both of them.
“I’ve locked the door, but my dad won’t come in anyway. He has to be up early to drive Danny to the retirement home. He works there three days a week, with my mom,” I explain.
“He’s a busy guy,” Finn says. “He told me he made Volunteer of the Year at the library.”
“He volunteers there on Monday and Friday afternoons. Mom tries to keep him busy. And he loves meeting people, even if he doesn’t always know what to say.”
I turn back to Finn, who’s still standing there with his hands in his pockets, looking mildly uncomfortable. It’s quite a change, considering the Finn I spent part of my evening with earlier.
“You’re staring,” he points out.
“Sorry. I’m still trying to sort out reality here.”
He gives me a look as it dawns on him. “You traveled?”
“Uh-huh. And when I came back, the other me had almost died.”
“What?”
“I was with Ben—I mean, another Jessa was—at the ghost tour. I traveled back just as the drama was done. Apparently, my counterpart went a little crazy when she saw Ben take pictures with his phone. She borrowed it and was snapping pictures all over the place. Somebody asked her to take a picture of them, and somehow she tripped over a purse. Then she almost fell off the roof.”
“The roof?”
“We were on the roof of city hall, hearing about the Ghost of the Clock Tower.”
“So somebody planted the purse there,” he says grimly. “Do you have any idea who?”
“No, she—I—was pretty overwrought.” I remember her fear—my fear—and it’s still so very real.
“I don’t like when you travel without me.”
“I wasn’t without you. Technically.”
He rocks back and forth on his heels some more, and I stare at a spot on the wall. The silence is awkward.
“Well…,” he finally says, “at least this time it wasn’t my fault.”
“That’s a relief.”
“Not really. It means our Traveler has stepped up his game. He’s getting desperate.”
“So now what? I can’t have you sleeping in my backyard every night.”
“If you’ve got an extra blanket,” Finn suggests, “I can sleep on the floor. I’ll leave before anyone wakes up.”
“Yeah … sure, I think there’s one up here.” I walk over to the closet, reaching up to the top shelf. I’m too short and the blanket is pushed too far back—I can’t get to it. I’m just about to ask him for help when I feel his chest press into my back, and his arm reaches around me to pull the blanket down.
“I’ve got it.” He doesn’t move away, and we’re still pressed against each other. I close my eyes, remembering the feeling of his lips on my neck.
“Do you have a pillow?” he asks. He still hasn’t moved. I turn, gesturing toward the bed. “You can have the other one,” I say. Then my mouth opens and my voice speaks and from a far-off distance, I hear myself tell him that he can have the other side of the bed.
“You mean that?” he asks.
Do I? I think I do.
“I’ve got a full-sized bed—you can fit.” I realize just how this must sound, so I add, “You just stay on top of the covers with the blanket, okay?”
“I’m okay with it if you are,” he says carefully.
I slide into bed, straightening the blankets, and he takes his jacket and shoes off and climbs on top, spreading the other blanket over himself.
“Mmm.” He makes an appreciative sound. “Much better than a spider-infested dirt mattress.”
“I would imagine so.”
He stacks his hands behind his head. “Hope I didn’t bring any with me.”
“Finn!”
“I’m teasing. I think.”
We lie in silence for several long minutes, and I wonder if he might be asleep until he proves me wrong.