The Last Adventure of Constance Verity (5 page)

“You really like this?” asked Connie. “No judgment. Sorry if it came across that way.”

“It's people trying to share an intimate part of themselves,” he replied. “Sure, they're failing miserably, but at least they're trying. Takes a lot of courage or ego or stupidity to get up on that stage, but that's kind of what makes greatness. Not that these people will ever be great, but that just makes it more worthy in a way.”

“I guess I hadn't thought of it like that.”

“The world is full of people who smirk on the sidelines. I'd much rather be a cheerleader.”

“Point taken.”

They clinked their bottles together.

“So, what do you do for a living?” he asked.

She paused. It wasn't a question that came up often. Most people in a position to ask it already knew. She'd lived with a nebulous brand of fame for decades now. Most people had
heard of her, but not many people knew what she looked like. She didn't do interviews. She didn't seek fame out. She kept a low profile. It was inevitable that some of her adventures would thrust her into the spotlight, but there was usually someone else ready to jump in front of her and take credit, and she was always happy to let them.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I hope it wasn't a rude question.”

“No, it's not that. Like I said, I'm just distracted. I'm between jobs right now.” She felt bad. It was a lie by omission. A bad way to start things off.

Start what off? She'd barely met Byron. Barely exchanged a few sentences. He didn't have a wife, though. Or a girlfriend. Hadn't had one in at least five or six months. He might've been divorced, but if so, he didn't have any kids. Wasn't gay. And he was interested in her.

Sometimes, being a detective had its perks.

He said, “I get it. Why do we make such a big deal about our jobs? Like they define us. We're more than that, right? I'm an accountant, myself. People think it's boring. And it is. But people think I'm boring too because of it.”

“And are you?” she asked.

“If I'm being honest . . .” He waggled his hand.

She laughed. He smiled.

He had the cutest smile.

Connie and Byron made out outside her apartment door for a few moments.

They paused to catch their breath, and he glanced at Dana's door across the hall. She'd left the coffeehouse hours before while Connie and Byron continued to talk until the place closed down. Then they'd gone to an all-night diner and talked some more. And then they'd ended up here.

“We could've gone to your place,” said Connie. She wished they had. All the bric-a-brac of her complicated life lay inside her apartment, but her place had been closer.

“I don't really do stuff like this,” he said. “Ever.”

She chuckled. “Don't worry. I'll respect you in the morning. Would you like to come in?”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “Not that I'm assuming anything is going to happen, but—”

“We're going to have sex,” said Connie. “That is, if you want to.”

“Of course I want to, but aren't you worried about moving too fast?”

“It's just sex,” she said.

He made an ambiguous noise. She sometimes forgot that for normal people, sex could be a big deal. Most of Connie's life had been short-term relationships, casual sex, fly-by-night affairs of convenience.

She kissed him again, and he pulled her into his arms.

“Yeah,” he said. “Just sex, right?”

There was a little wobble in his voice. The poor guy was nervous. It was charming. She was a little nervous herself. Her non-adventure sexual experiences had been a mixed bag. Once
you'd made love hiding in the tiger pits of a mad maharajah, a lot of non-adventure sex lost its luster. It wasn't exactly a fetish, but Connie would've felt more comfortable if they'd been under the stars of a steamy jungle.

This was just sex. Just sex. Nothing but two people testing out each other's bodies, seeing how they might line up, hoping to hell that they didn't fuck it up somehow.

Who was she kidding? She was probably more nervous than him.

He must've sensed her trepidation. His hand, caressing her breast, moved down to her waist. “We don't have to do this if you don't want.”

She pulled him tighter, buried her face in his chest. “No, I really want to do this.”

And she did. More than anything. She liked him, and she wasn't sure where this was going. It might be a mistake, but it was the kind of mistake she could make without fearing blowing up the universe. The stakes were absurdly low.

But damn it, she really liked him.

She pushed open her apartment door, and they moved inside, hands fumbling with each other's clothes. He did glance around at the mess, probably thinking her a hoarder. Thankfully, it wasn't difficult to turn his attention back to her. He'd have questions, but those questions could wait.

In the morning, she'd be off on another perilous adventure, but that was hours away. Right now, right here, all that mattered was him and her.

He swept her up in his arms. She'd been swept up in many arms in her life, but this time, it felt different. His knees wobbled as he lifted her up, and with unsteady strides and a determined effort not to look strained, he carried her to the bedroom.

T
he sex was good. Not Amazon-jungle great. Not the Seven Towers of Vark great. But it was good enough, and she was glad to have it. Afterward, they cuddled, smiling at each other like a couple of idiots.

“I really like you,” he said.

She laughed. “I would hope so.”

He pushed himself up on his elbows. “I have to tell you something.”

She put a finger to his lips. “No, you don't.”

Connie didn't want to hear it. This wasn't the time to share secrets. She didn't need to find out that he was on the run from the mob or that a curse made everyone in his family transform into bears after sex. She didn't care.

Byron lowered her finger. “I know who you are. I recognized you when I first saw you at the coffeehouse.”

“Why didn't you say anything?”

“I was going to, but you didn't bring it up. You're probably
sick of all the dumb questions people ask once they find out who you are.”

“You have no idea.”

“Then we started having a good time, and I couldn't find the right moment to say anything. I'm sorry. I should've said something earlier.”

“I'm glad you didn't.” She leaned in and kissed him. “But I'm glad you came clean, too.”

He smiled. “Why me?”

“Why not you? It wasn't planned. Why me?”

“Same thing, I guess.”

“Let's not overthink it,” she said. “Let's just enjoy it.”

“Sure. Okay.” There was some disappointment in his voice.

She found his insecurity endearing. She tended to sleep with guys who were full of themselves. Gorgeous superspies and dashing monster hunters didn't tend to invest in their one-night stands. She wasn't much different.

Byron didn't live that life.

“It's not like that,” she said. “I mean, it could be like that. If that's all you want. I'm not trying to make this into more than it is, but what it is is pretty sweet. I like you. I needed this. Puts everything in perspective. I've been thinking about making a change lately, and this is the kind of thing I'm trying to have more of.”

“But with all the stuff you've done—”

“All that stuff, the adventures, the constant danger, the exotic locations. It's like everything else. It becomes ordinary
in a way. Believe it or not, this is probably the biggest adventure I've been on in a while.”

“Careful,” he said. “You'll give me a big head.”

She kissed him on the neck and threw her leg over him. “You've earned it.”

They made love again, and while it wasn't as passionate as the time she'd been seduced by the Iron King of the Lost Realms, nor as exhilarating as when she'd had that fling in zero gravity, it was somehow more memorable.

The next morning, they took a shower together. They ate a hasty breakfast she threw together.

“Will I see you again?” he asked.

“Do you want to see me again?”

“Are you kidding?”

Connie said, “Byron, you need to understand something. Being involved with me can get complicated. I don't have a lot of luck with guys like you. I don't trust easily. Last night, I checked to see if you had extensive plastic surgery scarring or were an alien at least seven times.”

“Is that why you poked me with your fork hard enough to draw blood?”

She winced. “Yeah. Sorry about that. I had to be sure.”

“I'm not any of those things,” he said. “Nor am I a secret assassin or a clone of Hitler come back for my revenge.”

“How did you know about clone Hitler?”

He laughed before realizing she wasn't joking.

“Wait. There is a Hitler clone out to get revenge on you?”

“A few,” she said. “Every time I kill one, seems like two more take his place.”

“Wow. I knew you lived a strange life. I never thought it was that strange.”

“It's not all Frankenstein monsters and Mongolian hordes from space,” she said, “but there's some baggage. And I'm always off doing some crazy dangerous thing. It makes having any kind of ongoing friendship with anyone difficult. I'm working on it. If all goes as planned, I might be normal eventually.”

“I don't care if you're normal, Connie. I just thought we had a great time, and I'd like to see you again. You don't have to let me down easy if you're not interested. I'm a grown man.”

“No, I'm interested.”

“So, we'll take it slow,” he said.

“Little late for that, isn't it? Slow isn't how I normally do things.”

“It'll be a nice change of pace, then.”

He had her there.

“We'll go slow, then,” she said.

“Terrific. How about dinner tonight?”

“That's slow?”

He hugged her. He didn't have the powerful arms of a barbarian prince, but he had something. Whatever it was, she wanted more of it, but it also scared her. She wasn't used to being scared.

Tia knocked on the door. Right on time. Of course she was.

“I'd love to have dinner but I'm in the middle of something; but when I get back, I'll call you. I swear.”

He didn't ask any questions. Either he didn't believe her or he'd accepted that trying to date Connie meant explanations weren't always readily available.

Connie opened the door, and Tia stood there with several suitcases and a fully stocked hiking backpack.

“Tia, Byron. Byron, Tia,” said Connie as she half-pushed him out the door. She wasn't eager to get rid of him, and if Tia wasn't here, she might have even put this off. But if it worked, she'd be a regular person and be in a better position to date someone like Byron.

“Nice to meet you,” said Tia.

“You, too.”

“Yes, it's very nice for everyone to meet everyone,” said Connie as she pushed Tia inside and hastily threw the suitcases into the apartment. “I swear I'm not blowing you off, Byron. I will call you. Soon.”

He nodded, slightly bewildered, as she gave him one last kiss and started to close the door.

“Oh, and just so you know, I have an evil twin, and she has a tendency to sleep with my boyfriends.”

He raised an eyebrow. “So, I'm a boyfriend already?”

“No, but she might not know that. Just something I let all the guys I'm dating know.”

“Now you're just screwing with me.”

“I told you, Byron. My life is complicated. If you change
your mind by the time I call you, I'll understand. In the meantime, if I show up with an inexplicable Yugoslavian accent, walk away.”

“Okay. Thanks for the tip,” he said just as the door clicked shut.

Tia said nothing. She only stood there, smiling.

“It just happened,” said Connie. “Don't start.”

“I'm not starting,” said Tia. “I'm just surprised. Here I spent the morning packing for a globe-spanning adventure, and you were here. With Byron. Letting things just happen. Are you sure he's a regular person?”

“Reasonably sure.”

She could never be certain, but so far, he hadn't done anything suspicious, which was in itself sort of suspicious. She switched off her paranoia. She didn't have time for it.

“Why do you have so many suitcases?” asked Connie.

“I have more stuff in my car,” she said.

“What for?” asked Connie.

“Aren't we going on an adventure? Wasn't sure what I'd need. Aren't you the one who is always preaching the value of being prepared?”

“It's been fifteen years since I followed that philosophy. Now I mostly wing it.”

“You're telling me I didn't need to get up early today and pack for every conceivable scenario?”