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I roll my eyes at her expense, getting another chuckle out of her.
I try to focus, but I can’t. “Are you going to catch me up on whatever the hell is happening?”
“I thought BJ was your homegirl?” she throws back, the corner of her lips turning up as she continues watching the movie. This is the Viola I adore—simple, funny, cute.God. I wish I weren’t in pain. I wish Thursday night would’ve never happened, and I could pull her into my lap.
“She is. I mean, she reminds me of a cornier, klutzier you.”
“Rude!” She playfully smacks me on the arm before realization hits that I’m already bruised. “Shit! I’m sorry!” She closes her eyes for a moment. “I didn’t mean to hit you.”
“Just a natural twitch?” I smirk, not wanting her to feel too bad.
She cocks her head.
“Lighten up, Princess.”
“Are you hungry?” she asks sincerely, changing the subject.
“Yes.”
“What are you hungry for?”
My eyes widen as my lips tilt up in a cocky pout. “Well…”
“Food,” she clarifies. “I meant, what kind of food are you hungry for?”
“Why do you assume I was going to say something else?”
She rolls her eyes, shifting her body toward me. “Because I know you. You have a dirty mind.”
“And you’re going to deny a broken man his dying wish?” I arch a brow.
“You aren’t dying, but you are definitely being dramatic.” My eyes follow her as she stands up and walks toward the kitchen. “My mother always told me a man is the biggest baby when hurt or sick. Guess she was right.”
I laugh, knowing her mother well enough to know she would say something like that.
“Are you calling me baby?” I shout, hoping to get a reaction out of her.
“Ababy, yes.” She pokes her head around the wall with an arched eyebrow.
“Fine, I’ll make my own food.” I shift off the couch, trying to prop myself up.
She walks back in and points her finger at me. “Sit back down. Drew will have my head if he thinks I’m not helping.”
“Still afraid of your big brother, huh?” I ask in amusement.
She crosses her arms. “No. But I don’t want to hear about it from either of you.”
“Whatever you say, Princess.” I sit back on the couch as she walks toward the kitchen.
“Don’t make me poison your sandwich, King,” she shouts loud enough to be heard, but I can hear the smile in her tone.
“I’ve assumed you’ve been doing that all along,V.”
She saunters in with two sandwiches and a bag of chips, and I’m grateful for something other than Jell-O and juice.
“Enjoy,” she says, picking up her sandwich and taking a bite with a side of an evil grin.
After a very tastyunpoisonedsandwich and finishing up a second chick flick, Viola falls asleep against the arm of the couch. I desperately want to lie next to her and wrap my arms around her, but I know that’d be playing with fire. Drew’s been gone for hours, and I can only imagine that the moment I’m too close to Viola, he’d come prancing back in.
