She read his face in under a second.
"Later," he said, quietly enough that only she could hear. "When we're home."
She held his gaze for a moment. Then she turned back to her parents.
He stood beside her. And he waited.
REMI'S POV
The penthouse was quiet by the time the last of the staff had cleared and Marisol and Emory had gone back to their hotel.
Marisol had held on at the door — her hands on my face, the gesture I'd come to understand was simply hers, the inventory she needed to do when she wanted to confirm I was real. "I'll call you in the morning," she said.
"I know," I said.
Emory had given me one of his measured looks — the ones that contained most of what he hadn't yet figured out how to say in words. He was getting better at the words. We both were.
They left.
I went
