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“That sounds perfect.” I relax enough to sigh, let my shoulders drop, and unclench one of my hands from the wheel to find hers. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

“Merry Christmas, Laz. So. Um. Were we actually heading to the shop?”

“To the apartment. To home.”

“Aww. So we can wake up together Christmas morning? This is... This is too good. This is too good for me,” she whispers, eyes darting from the road to my face and back.

“This is just perfect for us, Vic. Also, there’s a long, long time between Christmas morning and right now. I just... I want to take you home with me. I want it to be a home together.” I swallow, and my chest feels funny inside. There’s no other word for it. Light and heavy at once. I know what I want, and I know Manny and Rhea want the same things for me, but it feels funny to reach out and take this huge gift for myself.

Home. Family. Love.

Victoria.

“Want that? With me?” I reiterate, just giving her another chance to change her mind.

“More than anything,” she says, voice gritty and hard, and I understand. Because she wants it so bad. Just like me.

And I want her so bad. “Let’s go home, baby.”

LAZARUS: VICTORIA IS coming for presents and dinner tomorrow. Also, does the offer still stand about the apartment?

Rhea: Good!

Manny: How was your date?

Rhea: Yes about the apartment.

Lazarus: Date was amazing. What’s the rent?

Manny: Free idiot.

Manny: Free. Comma. Comma. Idiot

Manny: I hate this phone.

Rhea: He means that with love. About you being an idiot for thinking we’d charge you money to live in a place we already own that’s standing around empty. He really does hate that phone.

Manny: Phones were more helpful before they were smart. “Smart.”

Lazarus: Victoria and I won’t fight if we’re left alone together. We worked stuff out. I think we’ll have a nightcap at the apartment.

Rhea: Good. I’m glad you made peace. You’re sweet kids, both of you. Even sweet people have things they’ve done that they wish they could change or erase. Glad you’re not fighting, too, especially since we just fixed the apartment up and I don’t want it wrecked again.

“I’m going to get cleaned off before I get into bed. Join me?” Victoria’s voice tears my gaze from the phone screen and my text exchange.

She’s naked. Leaning against the bathroom door as steam starts to waft around its edge. Her dark hair is fanned out and falling around her shoulders. My bite is on her neck, little rivers of dried blood trailing down her breast. One arm up, lazy and inviting, bruised hand fanned out with casual grace. Eyes welcoming.

She looks like sex and danger.

Which means that she looks like she belongs to me. Perfect for me. A match.

My soulmate, with whatever soul I’ve got left or made up from scraps.

I glance back at the last text from Rhea about not wrecking this place.

Then I look back at Vic, at how she’s licking her lips when she looks at me.

Lazarus: Sorry, Mom. No promises. We’ll be over in the morning. Late.