It’s been superficial—neither of us daring to tread too deeply. I know he’s overflowing with questions. Since I came in today, he’s been staring at me with a burning curiosity when he thinks I’m not paying attention yet. But I haven’t found the voice to tell him anything.
Admittedly, I’m too scared to.
I’m ashamed of my past. Ashamed of giving Layla up. And ashamed that I came running back when I couldn’t find happiness thousands of miles away from her.
And maybe a little ashamed that I didn’t have the gall to reconnect with him sooner—the only man who made me feel something outside of bone-crushing terror.
I’m sitting behind the counter, watching him work. He invited me to keep him company until the end of his shift. Even though he’s the owner, he tries to stick to a schedule alongside his employees, considering it’s his skills that are required to provide his real services .
“You are just so smart. I’ve no idea how to work these damn things anymore, but my grandson’s been asking me to get one of these flat-screen TVs for his video games. And, well, I’ll do anything for that kid,” the older woman explains, waving her wrinkled hand around as she speaks.
Cage grins, which is a complete cause for concern. Every time he does, I swear that poor woman’s heart stops, and an uncontrollable smile overtakes her wrinkled face.
“Well, then, who am I to get in the way of that? I’ll point you in the direction of the most cost-efficient TV that’ll make his heart happy. Sounds good, yeah?”
The woman titters. “So kind of you. Thank you, young man.”
They walk off, leaving me alone with Silas, Cage’s employee. We both glance at each other and then simultaneously roll our eyes.
“It’s annoying how he’s only gotten more charming with age,” Silas grumbles, flicking his black hair from his equally dark eyes.
He’s a handsome man himself, but his eyes tend to stray toward people who look a lot more like Cage.
“Whatever pays the bills, I guess,” I respond, though Silas is right. He’s only become more enigmatic since I’ve last seen him.
Which is definitely annoying.
“He never got over you, ya know,” Silas says, bringing my attention snapping back to him. When my brows crease in confusion, he explains, “It took about three years and a really drunken night to admit that you both slept together that night.” His arms rise defensively. “Which I’m not judging either of you for. Anyway, he blabbered on about how he hasn’t been able to think of anyone else since. How every day, he would picture you showing back up in the store. I guess, in a way, he’s been looking for you since you left, even if it was him that made you disappear.”
My heart clenches painfully. It’s a feeling that I understand.
Many nights, I questioned if I did the right thing by moving to Alaska. I would fantasize about what would happen if I went back and explored a different life—one with Cage.
If it would be as good as I thought it could be. But I talked myself out of it every time, convinced that changing the course of my life over one night with a man was entirely stupid and presumptuous.
I’d never been in a relationship beforehand, and certainly not after, so what the fuck would I know about what’s normal to feel after a one-night stand?
“He barely knew me,” I finally muster, clinging to the only excuse I have for the two of us always being drawn to each other the way we have. It was just one night. People don’t fall in love that quickly, and it would be insane to think otherwise.
“At one point in our lives, we don’t know our soulmates at all. But that doesn’t make them any less of one. Sometimes… sometimes you just know.”
I frown, contemplating that.
Cage reappears before I can wrap my head around that, and he slaps his hands on the counter to draw our attention.
“I have a few things to finish up for a client, and then I’m set to go,” he announces. Then, he tips his chin toward the back door. “Come back with me?”
Smiling tightly, I wave at Silas before following him through the back door.
My stomach flutters with nerves, and every time I look at Cage, I increasingly realize that maybe he’s more than just a man I slept with once.
And that is utterly terrifying.
For the next hour, I watch him work. He’s designing a new driver’s license for a client who will now reside in Maine. Black Portal is just a front, but his real job is making people disappear and reappear with an entirely new identity. New name, social security card, birth certificate, and state of residence.