"You'll ruin it," I whispered, though it was clearly too late for that.
"So?" He finished cleaning my chest, and tossed the tie like an old dishrag. "I've got
hundreds."
We'd come full circle. I couldn't stop a giddy laugh from rising up and escaping, and
he smiled, folding himself down on the floor beside me, until his head rested against my knee.
I let my fingers drift through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly, the way he liked.
"I have to confess something, too," he said, softly. He looked up at me, half-smiling in
that boyish way I'd missed so much.
"Well?" I stilled my hand. "Keep in mind, I know a way to kill a man and leave no
trace."
"I didn't know what to get you, either," he said. It took me a moment to follow, then my
eyes widened. "I've legitimately been working late, that wasn't a lie, but I also spent a lot of
time hunting something down. I just didn't know what to do. Everything seemed useless or
impractical or clichéd."
When it sank in, I let out a shriek of laughter and smacked at the back of his head,
playfully. He dodged with a noise of protest.
"You asshole!" I yelled. "Making such a big deal out of it - God, you are the worst."
"Come on," he said, laughing. "I really was serious about most of it. I never want you
to..." He grew serious, frowning a little. "...feel like you owe me this."
"I don't," I assured him. "I didn't. It just seemed like a way I could, you know, talk to
you."