On the Way Down

Chapter Twenty-One

His eyebrows lift at that, and his jaw tenses. It's a curious physical response, since he should be happy to learn Ava didn't hook up with Nash, but maybe it's a knee-jerk reaction to hearing Torin's name.

"She's okay today?" he asks.

"She seems to be, but all I know is what she put in her message. I'll get the full story from her later. The main thing is she's fine, and no, she didn't spend the night with Nash. It sounded like Torin didn't think she was in any kind of shape to decide about leaving with him." I pause for a moment, then give him a teasing smile. "It's proof he isn't only overprotective of me."

Phoenix nods, and I can't tell if it's relief that eases the crease between his eyebrows, or approval, or both. "That's not always a bad thing. I think Torin and I might agree on something in this case."

"Careful," I joke. "The next thing you know, you two will be best friends."

This elicits a smile. He reaches for a slice of toast. "I'd settle for him not wanting to tear me from limb to limb when he sees me with you, but that's on me and I don't blame him."

The smile fades as he takes a bite and chews, and his eyes hint that he's retreated into more serious thoughts. Discussing Torin, Ava, and Nash, the memories of last night before we left Torin and Nash's show, and the news report about Len are all sobering reminders that our lives aren't contained solely within these walls, even if everything else but the two of us faded into the background for a while. I would give anything for a few more blissful hours of forgetting the rest of the world and holding on to how things were when we woke up today, and to distract Phoenix from what neither of us has an answer to and can't control.

It could be my selfish desire to sustain a more playful mood for as long as we can during the limited time we're together this weekend, or maybe it's the oxytocin still flooding my brain. Whatever the reason, I don't hesitate to nudge his foot with mine under the table to get his attention, or to fix my gaze on him and say the first subtly suggestive thing that comes to mind.

"Torin has to get through me if he wants to lay a hand on you. I'm pretty invested in your body staying in one piece."

He swallows his bite of toast, contemplating me, and I congratulate myself when I spot the sparkle of mischief in his eyes and upward pull of his mouth.

"Any parts of my body in particular?" He nudges my foot back and leaves his resting against mine.

I shrug, doing my best to appear angelic and completely innocent. "We could go through them one by one after we eat."

"Tempting. Are we going to make it out of the house today?"

"Outside is overrated," I inform him. "There are all those other people."

"So you're telling me no return visit to the Strip or a Cirque du Soleil show tonight?"

"Any acrobatics this weekend will not involve stage performers, thank you."

"Hmmm. Who should that involve?" He strokes his chin, and I can tell he's doing his best to look serious, but he's failing.

"If you have to ask, I should probably pack up and go home to L.A."

Phoenix doesn't reply, but instead pushes his seat back and gets up from the table. I assume he's going to get himself a cup of coffee or something else to drink, but he stops when he's behind my chair. He bends down to drop a kiss on the crown of my head.

"Please don't, unless I'm coming with you. Monday is already too soon."

He presses his mouth to my hair again, then slowly straightens up. His soft footsteps make their way across the kitchen, and I listen to him put a coffee pod in the Keurig and then the sound of water streaming into a mug. All kinds of responses flit through my mind, mostly along the lines of how much I already wish he was coming with me when I go home, and different ways to ask if he has any updates about when he'll be done with what he's working on here. Those are all too serious for me in this moment, though, and perhaps he senses what I'm thinking, because his voice breaks into my thoughts.