So I looked up and said what was in my heart. “I love you.”

He met my eyes squarely, and my God, he was beautiful. It always surprised me, a bit, how everything just worked with him—his eyes, and his hair, and his cheekbones, and his mouth, and … everything. Living art, so gorgeous that sometimes, like now, it hurt. But if his looks burned a little, the expression on his face soothed it; he was intent on me, as if I was the only thing in the world. Nothing in his eyes but open, honest feeling.

“I love you, too,” he said. “What are we going to do about this?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I thought I did, but … it’s a little like being in a relationship with Superman. You sometimes don’t know your own strength.”

He smiled, and it made his dimples come out. “I think I’m more Batman,” he said. “You know, what with all the bats and nighttime activities. And Batman is much cooler.”

“Geek.”

His smile widened. “You say the nicest things. Haven’t you heard? Geeks run the world now.”

“Yeah, what Goths allow them to run.” This felt so good … so much like the old days, when we were friends, and before everything got so complicated. So dangerous. “You’re avoiding the conversation.”

He looked down at his hands, then back up as if willing himself to do it. “Yeah, I guess I am. I hurt you. I could do it again, if the conditions were right; I don’t really know what could trigger me to do it, Eve. Wish to hell I did. I just … lost myself. And I can’t promise you it won’t happen again.” There was something tentative about the way he was watching me now. Afraid, I realized. Afraid I was going to reject him, and knowing it would hurt, but just … holding still for it all the same.

“That makes jumping into getting married sound a little crazy,” I said. “Doesn’t it?”

He nodded. This time, when he looked down, he didn’t try to meet my eyes again.

“Michael.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. It came out half a whisper, and a little unsteady. “It’s not your fault, it’s mine …”

“Michael. Look at me.” He did, finally, bracing himself for impact. “I said getting married sounds crazy. I do crazy for a living.”

For a blank few seconds, he didn’t seem to understand me; I think he must have run that through his head at high speed a dozen times before he finally got the translation. “You mean you’re okay. We’re okay.”

“Yes, Michael, you fool, we’re very okay. But what I said before still stands. You’d better not think of me as a victim, even if something does happen. I’m no weak little flower, and if I need to defend myself, I will. Just—try not to make that happen. I really don’t want to have to hurt you. Okay?”

His smile was bright and sweet and hot enough to melt solid steel. “Is this the part where I kiss you?”