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“Give me your other hand? I know we’re in the middle of an investigation, but we’re still girls, aren’t we.”
He looks at her, into her, in a way she finds unnerving.
her buzzcut makes everything easier
All this time he’s wasted, when he could have been hugging Emma.
Why, Travis thinks, why why why would anyone find any pleasure in seeing women hurt, when it’s a billion times more pleasurable to see them happy? He doesn’t have the answer to that question.
You’re as close to me as anyone. She doesn’t just mean proximity—they’re emotionally close, and it’s been this way since they first met in June. The one bright spark for him in this whole mess has always been Emma.
“I came here with you to show you,” Travis blurts suddenly. “I want you to see that you can trust me. That I’m on your side. That I choose you. Emma, I would choose you over an FBI order every time.”
“Don’t shoot me, shoot the bad guy.” Travis gives her his jacket, his eyes very clear under the moon. “And we’re talking about that kiss when I get back.”
She doesn’t look happy. That’s the first thing that comes into focus, how unhappy she looks. And Travis thinks that’s just shameful, because if anyone deserves to be happy, it’s Emma. When he’s able to scrape himself up off this hard cement floor, he’s going to make it his mission in life to ensure she’s happy.
“If he wants me, he can have me.” Travis drags his gaze away from Simon long enough to burn his eyes into hers. “So long as you’re safe, it doesn’t matter.”
Tears leaking down her cheeks as she clasps his hand and bends closer, presses her forehead gently to his. And my god, what he feels for this girl. His torn heart leaps inside his broken chest, and it should be painful, but somehow it isn’t.
