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“Spelled m-y-c-e, you dumb bear.”
He chuckled, unoffended.
“I felt sad. I felt sad when it was gone. I was just getting used to the idea, you know? Of being a mom, even if I was doing it alone.”
“Your bear wanted it, didn’t she?”
Lucia nodded.
He sucked air in sharply and turned for the truck. Over his shoulder, he called, “Well, when you want a random baby put in you again, you let me know.”
“Oh yeah, that would be the genetic jackpot,” she muttered sarcastically.
He’d been expecting her burn, and was already smiling to himself. He liked her sassy. “Or if you want someone to practice with, I’ll make the sacrifice.”
“I don’t breed with morons,” she called, but he just got in the truck, shut the door beside him, and waited.
She was going to make a decision now—get in the truck, or walk back to the trailer park and forget about him.
****
Lucia watched him get into the truck.
She looked up the winding gravel road that led back to Smashland Mobile Park. She could just leave. She could escape the discomfort of knowing someone else in this world was aware of her failure.
It was his off-the-cuff joke about putting another baby in her that had stolen the anger away from her. Oh, she could tell he was joking, and it should’ve been the worst timing, right? But it was perfect. It took the sting away. Lucia wiped her damp cheeks and strode for the truck.
He’d rolled her window down, and she leaned on it. “Would you really have killed someone for hurting me?” she asked. The answer mattered.
“Oh, I would kill someone for tossing an insult your way, but to be fair, I just look for excuses to fight, so don’t feel too special.” His wicked grin eased something inside of her.
Lucia stuck her pinky out. “Pinky swear you won’t go blabbing this to the Crews?”
He hooked his pinky around hers. “I promise not to blab. I might write it in a letter though. Just kidding.”
She twisted his pinky and he yelped, “Ow!”
She yanked the door open and slid back in. “I would like to pretend this last ten minutes didn’t happen.”
“No can do, my little pizza crust. You hugged me back. I felt your boobs smashed against me. I’m jerking off to that later tonight.”
“God, are you always such a pervert?”
“Yep. I made us four playlists to listen to.”
“Why four?”
“Because I don’t know what kind of music you listen to. Are you ready for options?”
He really wasn’t going to make her talk about what she’d just admitted anymore. He really wasn’t going to make her relive the mortification of breaking down in front of him. He was just navigating them back to fun-and-easy. “All right, what are the options?”
“One, heavy metal. Two, techno. Three, rock, and four, cartoon soundtracks.”
The last one surprised her. “Which cartoons?”
“All of the major motion-picture cartoons,” he muttered, slipping a CD into his CD player.
“Did you burn a CD for tonight?” she asked in awe. “I didn’t even know you could still do that.”
