Page 67 of Dose

I bend until my mouth is against his. “We do everything we can.”

His eyes open beneath mine, furious at the limit of it.

Then he pulls me down and makes me forget language for a while.

Afterward, I stay draped over his right side until our breathing slows. Somewhere above us, rain is falling over Chicago. I checked the forecast at dinner. The first thing I ever wanted for myself was to stand outside in weather no one had scheduled.

I still want it.

Now I know whose hand I want in mine when I do.

“You’re not going to talk me out of Phoenix,” I say.

“I know.”

“And I’m not going to talk you out of being afraid.”

“No.”

His fingers move along my spine, counting vertebrae.

“I updated the children’s taper notes,” I say. “Raphael has the clinical copy. Ezra has an encrypted duplicate. If I don’t come back⁠—”

Theon’s hand stops.

“Don’t.”

“We prepare contingencies for everyone.”

“Not this one.”

I lift my head. His face has gone still in the way that means the opposite.

“Theon.”

“I would survive.” His voice is rough. “That’s the part you keep getting wrong. I would breathe. I would work. And I don’t trust what I would become when there was no longer any reason to come back from it.”

I understand. I wish I did not.

“I don’t trust what I’d become either,” I whisper.

His hand resumes its path down my back and brings me closer.

“We’re probably going to be fine,” I offer.

He is quiet for a beat. “Yes.”

“I’m excellent at following instructions when I agree with them.”

“So never.”

“Occasionally.”

“Name one occasion.”

“I followed the instruction to get on top.”

The tension in him shifts. His mouth brushes my forehead.