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“And I’m calling you to tell you to un-block me.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Little bit.” I scrub my palm over my face. “I miss you.”

“Miss me? Ford, I just saw you. You literally stole a kiss before you left.”

Fucking Sully.

“That wasn’t me,” I slur. “That was my loser alter-ego.”

“Are you jealous…of yourself?”

“Yep. I also hate parts of myself.”

“You have problems, Chevy.”

“And you have answers to my problems, Laundry.”

“You confuse me. You’re never the same person.”

“Can you un-block me?”

“Fine.”

“FaceTime me.”

“Okay.”

I don’t want to hang up, but I have to. She makes me wait a long five minutes before she calls me back. I answer on the first ring. Her pretty face is lit by a bedside lamp. The only light I have is coming into the room from the bathroom.

“Hey.”

She smirks. “Hey.”

“I wish you were in this bed with me right now.”

“Ford…”

“Don’t call me that.” I close my eyes. “Call me Chevy or…” Sparrow.

“Or what?”

“If you weren’t so stressed about life or whatever it is that has you wound up all the time, what would you do? You’re about as interested in college as I am. It won’t take them long to figure out we suck and never do our assignments.”

She scoffs. “I do my assignments.”

“Liar.”

“I need to do my assignments. I’ve just been distracted. I’ll catch up.”

“Maybe we should have a study date.” I grin at her. “Naked study date.”

“You’re a brat.”

“Seriously, babe. What would you do?”

She gnaws on her bottom lip so hard it’s a wonder she doesn’t draw blood. “I try not to think about it.”

What kind of answer is that?

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t have a future.” The bitterness in her tone can’t be hidden. “I’ll end up marrying some rich, successful guy and popping out a bunch of babies. The end.”

“Sounds like a lot of sex, though.”

She smiles even though I can tell she doesn’t want to. “I’d do something with my hands.”

“Hand jobs?”

“Oh my God. I’m hanging up.”

I laugh and then laugh harder when she sticks her tongue out. It’s so cute. If I were there, I’d suck it into my mouth and make her forget she was mad.

“When my mom was alive, she used to do all the floral arrangements for Dad’s parties. I loved helping her. We’d spend hours working with exotic flowers. It’s when we’d have our best talks.” She smiles wistfully. “I miss her.”

“I miss my mom, too.”

“She’s gone?”

“Yeah.” I close my eyes and then sigh. “So, a florist, huh? I could see you in a cute little shop cutting flowers.”

“It’s not exactly dreaming big,” she mutters. “What about you?”

I shrug. “I don’t have choices either. I’m my uncle’s bitch.”

“His bitch?”

“I run errands and shit for him.”

“He’s in the mafia?”

We both laugh.

“I wish. That shit would be entertaining. But, nah. I just go to parties and do odd jobs. It’s boring and pointless. My brother hates him for it.”

“Are you and your brother close? What’s his name?”

“Sullivan. And we’re close as brothers can be. Still, he’s a fucking prick most of the time.”

“My little sister can be a monster, but I’d never admit that to anyone but you.”

God, I wish I could kiss her right now.

“So?” she says. “What would you do if you didn’t have this uncle of yours?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I haven’t allowed myself to think that far ahead. At one time I thought I’d follow in my mom’s footsteps. Become a doctor. But…shit happened. I just don’t think about it now.”

“Maybe you’ll figure it out.”

“Maybe.”

“I should go to bed now,” she whispers. “It’s late and your eyes keep drooping.”

“Send me a picture and I’ll get off the phone.”

She rolls her eyes but nods. “Fine. I’ll send it after you hang up.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow, Laundry.”

“Bye, Chevy.”

She hangs up. I stare at the screen until a picture comes through text. In the photo, she’s smiling at me. It’s sweet and adorable. Rolling onto my side, I take a selfie and send it back to her. She sends me some sleeping emojis and I take the hint.

I fall asleep staring at her face and then I have dreams about her sassy mouth.

Chapter Twenty-One

Landry

Is Ford nice to you?

Della makes a sour face before signing, He’s a dummy.

I bite back a laugh and then probe some more. He isn’t a good teacher?

He’s a good teacher, she signs, and then shrugs. Just a dummy. Even Heathen knows it.

“You’re a brat,” I tease, signing and saying the words. “You know that?”

She nods happily, grinning. Then, she makes an evil face at me before signing, Is he your boyfriend?

My blood runs cold. Is it that obvious that me and Ford have something going on? If it’s apparent to my sister who doesn’t pay much attention to everyone around her, I can only imagine what my dad thinks, since he watches my every move.

“No,” I say in a harsh tone, making sure to enunciate so there’s no mistaking what I’m saying to her.

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