Page 61 of The Hitman’s Final Job

Also like someone I could get used to waking up next to for the rest of forever.

Silas shifts. A small movement at first, and his arm tightens slightly across my chest. There’s a heavy intake of air, then his eyes open slowly until they meet mine.

We smile at each other, and then he lifts his head and kisses me softly and with the lack of hurry of someone who isn’t planning on going anywhere anytime soon. When we break apart he stays close, his forehead near mine, and he takes a breath.

“Is this,” he says, “when we have the talk?”

I don’t want to have the talk as much as I can see in his eyes he doesn’t want to have the talk.

I want to stay in this bed in this configuration and not have the talk for as long as physically possible, because the talk will end in only one of two places, and I don’t want to go to either of them. Either we agree this was a mistake and it doesn’t happen again, which is the sensible conclusion, or we agree to something that has a finite end date built into it, which is better than nothing and also the kind of better than nothing that is going to hollow me out when it’s over.

The problem is that for a man with a few doctorates under his belt, I’m really not that smart.

“What if we don’t stop?”

His features draw together in a frown.

“What if we just do this while you’re here? And when you leave, it ends. We go back to what we were.”

He’s quiet for a moment.

“I’m still Rowan’s best friend.”

“I know. It’s one of the things I like the most about you.”

“What if we can’t stop?” He voices my biggest fear. “I’ve wanted you for a long time. This won’t just go away.”

I run my hand over his silky hair, then let it come to rest on his cheek.

“I have many bad habits. Once the shine comes off, you’ll be running for the hills.”

“Do you leave your nail clippings on the sink?”

I laugh. “I can start if you want.”

“Give me a few days to enjoy this first.”

“I can do that.”

“It won’t even be that hard,” he says, like he’s giving himself a pep talk. “After a few times it won’t be this good. It’ll get boring. These things always do.”

“Exactly,” I say.

“We’ll be over it within a week.”

“Probably less.”

“It’ll be very easy to end,” he says.

“Very easy.”

Neither of us is remotely convinced.

He kisses me, so I kiss him back, because for now, I can.

The kiss starts as the end to the conversation, but it becomes the start of something much more enjoyable. Something I definitely won’t miss once he’s gone. I’m already bored.

I’m not only not very wise. I’m also a liar.