Page 30 of Lost & Found

He held my gaze, a twinkle in his eyes.

“Well, to be safe, I suppose we could snag Declan. He can sit between us,” I teased.

“Um, yes, nothing like a child to cock—”

“Seriously? Go see about popcorn and snacks. I’ll wrangle the kid.”

“So what list were you talking about earlier?” I whispered, trying not to wake the sleeping child clutching his raggedy old teddy bear.

Her words were intriguing, but it was the way in which she said them that lingered. It was said in her usual quiet way, but the emotion behind it screamed something deeper. That, and the look of sadness that crossed her face.

It wasn’t often she let the vulnerable side of her personality show. I’d learned how to pick up on it more and more over the last few months. Like the others, I carried a sense of responsibility for her. I reminded myself of that daily. Especially lately.

I will not think about the night we kissed.

I repeated the mantra over and over until she spoke, pulling my attention.

“I…Marcel…my sessions with him…Lately he’s been asking me what I want out of life. It’s made me think is all.”

“Talk to me,” I said, rolling onto my side. We were lying on my bed, Declan in the middle of us.

“I didn’t have typical experiences after…everything.” Her eyes met mine, and I nodded, choosing to stay quiet. “I guess that makes me boring by most standards. All I ever did before was paint and hide away. I’m getting better now that I have the studio. Despite it, though, I still feel as awkward as ever. Some days it feels like that is true and then others—not so much.”

I dragged a deep breath in, not knowing where to start. The last thing I wanted to do was make it worse. I was choosing words carefully, almost rehearsing them as I did moves before a dance competition, when she blurted out.

“Marcel wants me to make a bucket list.”

“Are you dying?” I chuckled when she rolled her eyes.

“No, not that I’m aware of. And I told him the same thing. He said people make them all the time, not just when they’re dying. Is it weird that I think of the movie though whenever I hear the words?”

I studied the girl across from me. A look of weariness crossed her features—it was the same one she got right before she’d retreat into her shell and hide away. That wasn’t going to happen on my watch. A plan formed in my head. If nothing else, it would keep her in the game.

“You could make it a fuck-it list.”

Her cheeks flamed and fire shot out of her eyes.

“Why does every conversation we have end up sexual?”

I fought back laughter. “This isn’t a sexual conversation by any means. Nor are half of the ones we have. I think you just happen to hear the word fuck and your mind goes there.”

Dirty girl.

“Maybe you should consider a membership to the club.”

She made a small fist and threw it. It was awkward because of her position and landed somewhat pathetically.

“You’re so mean, princess. I only meant since your life is so boring, maybe you should adopt a fuck it mentality. Let go and I don’t know, do something crazy.”

“Crazy, like what? Get drunk and forget my own name?”

“No, getting shit-faced is not what it’s cracked up to be. Trust me, nothing fun about puking your guts out in some strange bathroom not knowing what or who is on the other side.”

“You speak from experience?”

“Not I, my lady. I am cultured, drinking in excess is for fools.”

“Will you stop and be serious? Marcel gave me homework—to make a list.”