“There’s no one gawking at us now.”

But that reminded me of the public spectacle our first kiss had become, and why we’d been there in the first place. And of the questions I still had to ask, as badly as I hated to ruin the moment. “So…Thane’s gone?” I asked, and Tod nodded. “What does that mean, exactly?”

“It means that Levi will be scrambling to replace him.”

“Does he know what happened?”

Tod leaned back in my desk chair. “He knows that Thane had an unfortunate run-in with everyone’s least favorite hellion and that he won’t be rejoining the workforce. But he might not be entirely clear on how Thane and Avari happened to meet.”

“Are you going to get in trouble for this?”

He shrugged, like it didn’t matter. “I’m dead. What more could they do to me?”

But I wasn’t buying his nonchalance. They could demote him back to reaping on the local nursing home circuit. They could transfer him to another district, away from his family. They could recycle his soul and end his afterlife.

The thought that Tod could die—for real this time—because of me made me want to vomit my junk food dinner all over my comforter. “The truth. How bad could this get?”

Tod exhaled slowly, then met my gaze with a heavy one of his own. “Levi wanted to make an example out of Thane and he’s pretty pissed that I messed that up. But he likes me—as much as a reaper his age can really like anyone—and he’s the one who left the information around for me to find in the first place. I think he’ll leave it alone as long as he can claim plausible deniability. But if anyone over his head finds out I acted against another reaper—one who outranks me—without permission or evidence…well, let’s just say there’ll be a sudden opening at the pizza place.”

My nausea swelled into bone chilling horror. Tod could still die—again—for what he’d done for me. But he hadn’t hesitated to do it.

“So he hasn’t replaced Thane yet?” I said, trying not to think about how badly this could end for Tod. There was nothing I could do to change that. I couldn’t make him take back what he’d done, and even mentioning it would sound ungrateful.

“Not that I know of.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. Knowing that Levi was looking for someone to kill me—though inevitable—was creepy and beyond bizarre.

Though it hadn’t even happened yet, my death was already hurting people, in spite of my best efforts to make it easy on everyone. I should have told Emma earlier. I’d thought that by not telling her, I’d be sparing her several days of advance grief, but it turns out, I was denying her the chance to come to terms with my death.

And Nash…

“I shouldhave taken your advice,” I blurted out, with no conscious warning from my brain that I was even going to speak.

Tod took one look at the pain that must have been swirling in my eyes and he put on a teasing grin as easily as most guys would put on a baseball cap. “About the pizza? I told you, goat cheese is no joke.”

“No.” He was going to make me say it. “About Nash. I should have let Sabine have him six weeks ago. You were right—if I’d let him go then, he would have moved on by now, and whatever’s going to happen on Thursday wouldn’t be so hard for him.” And, of course, he wouldn’t have been blindsided by me kissing his undead brother in the middle of the math hall.

Tod exhaled heavily, and when he looked up, the soft swirl of blue in his eyes caught me off guard. And suddenly my heart felt bruised in advance of whatever he was going to say. “I lied, Kaylee.”

Okay, not the best opening… But not the worst either, considering his last big announcement was that I was going to die. “About what?”

“About Nash,” Tod said, and though he looked uncomfortable with the very concept of making a confession, he didn’t look particularly sorry about the offense itself. “I don’t think he would have gotten over you this quickly.”

“Then why did you say it?” Why would he lie to me—even if I was the pot to his black kettle?

“Because you don’t belong with him! I tried to tell you that, but you wouldn’t listen, and I thought if you understood that he’d be better off without you, you’d break up with him for his own good. So I…exaggerated how easy it’d be for him to get over you, with Sabine there to step in. But I underestimated how incredibly stubborn you are.”

“I prefer to think of it as dedication…” I mumbled.

“Whatever you want to call it. The harder Sabine pulled on him, the harder you pulled back, just so she couldn’t have him.”

“That’s not why!”

“Not consciously, no,” Tod agreed, taking my hand in his. “Which is why you couldn’t see what I was trying to show you. But then you saw, and you kissed me, and that changed everything for me, and now I only know two things for sure.”

“What things?” I couldn’t get enough air, no matter how fast my lungs pulled it in, and I couldn’t think beyond waiting for whatever he would say next.

“I know that you and I belong together. And I know that it’s too late for that to matter.”

My heart cracked open, and pain leaked out. “That’s the problem, Tod. It’s too late for anything to matter. That’s why I kissed you,” I admitted, challenging myself to hold his gaze during my own confession.