Chapter 8: The Rule

Teo's loft was on the river, in an old printing warehouse, with brick walls and one lamp on.

He had been sleeping there since the night of the dinner.

I did not remember the drive.

I remembered the clinic's elevator, his coat on my shoulders, and the doctor saying the word eight months.

He shut the door behind us and stood with his back to it.

"I'll make you tea," he said. "Then I'll take you back to your sister's."

"I don't want tea."

"What do you want?"

"I want to stop thinking."

He didn't move. He kept his hands at his sides, the way he had in the diner.

"We said we'd wait until the debt was named," he said.

"It's named."

"It isn't," he said. "That's what he gave her. We don't know why he owed it."

"Then I'm breaking the rule."

My voice cracked on the last word.

"He paid his debt with my baby, Teo. I'm not waiting for permission from a rule."

He looked at me for a long moment.

"You're upset."

"I'm furious. That's not the same, and I know the difference."

I crossed the room and put both hands on his chest.

I felt his heart under my palms, going hard and fast.

"One more minute," he said, low. "I need one more minute to be sure."

"You had it. You had the whole drive."

Then I kissed him.

This time there was no door open and no phone in the dark.

He let out a rough breath against my mouth, and his hands came up and closed in my hair.

He kissed me hungrily, with two weeks of waiting in it.

I pushed his coat off my shoulders and it hit the floor.

He walked me backward until my hips met the edge of the long table by the window.

His hands went to the buttons of my dress and stopped.

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