Seeing his expression, like he was trying to put something indescribable into words, like he was in pain and always had been, I rephrased.

“You are in love with them?”

“No,” he said, somewhat automatically. I raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know.” He breathed. “Indah and Neon … I haven’t seen them in ten years. They wouldn’t even remember me.”

“I’m sure they would,” I said, trying to comfort him.

“Trust me, they wouldn’t,” he said darkly before exhaling loudly again.

“I guess … I don’t really know what being in love means,” he said. “But I’ve felt things for people … Indah and Neon and Mark … it’s different from how I feel about other people. Even people like you.”

“People like me?”

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “People that I like.”

I found myself oddly flattered at that, especially when our eyes met and Damien gave me the tiniest smile, one that threw me for a complete loop for a moment before I realized that it was because I’d never seen a true, genuine smile from him.

“So what you’re saying is you’re not in love with me?” I said, deadpan, trying to cut the tension but unable to keep myself from smiling back.

“Don’t be creepy, Dorothy.” He chuckled, and his smile grew. I laughed exhaustedly and put my elbows on the table, leaning forward into his space.

“Damien, why are you back here?” I groaned. “Just tell me whatever it is you want to tell me and then we can be out of each other’s lives for good.” I had meant it as a joke, but it vanished Damien’s smile immediately and I wanted to take it back.

“Is that what you want?” he asked. “Because I wasn’t even planning on calling you when I first got back but then—”

“Wait, how long have you been back?” I asked.

“A month.”

“A month?” I gaped. “What—why—what’s going on?”

“I was getting to that,” he said, lowering his voice like he was trying to use it to calm me down, which I found VERY annoying. “I came back because…”

He blew out a big breath—I had kind of missed his drama if I’m honest—and leaned back in the booth.

“I need some things from the AM,” he said after a moment and I instantly snapped.

“No, no way—” I shook my head. “That’s what you were trying to trick me into doing the very first time we met and I’m not having it—”

“I’m not asking you to go back into a program or make an appointment or anything,” he said.

“What are you asking?”

“To break in with me.”

I sat, shock-still for a second before a hollow laugh burst out of me.

“Oh, so just the way more illegal version of the already very sketchy thing you wanted me to do—”