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“I hate that he has caused pain to so many people just to punish me.”
“Although it’s not your fault, Boo-Boo. You know that, right?”
“I want to,” she admitted. “But that’s a little harder.”
Yeah. “I know.”
The sun played hide and seek behind the fat white clouds decorating the blue sky. As far as days went, it was really pretty. Though I should have brought sunglasses up here.
Quiet swirled around us, kind of like the smoke from the cigarette before a breeze brushed it away. I lit a second cigarette from the first and coughed as it burned my throat. As irritating as it was, it satisfied the other craving itching under my skin.
“Are you okay?” The soft question pulled at me.
“No,” I told her. “But you know that.”
Another flicker of a smile, one I had to answer with my own.
“Been dying for a hit all day,” I admitted. “To be honest, been dying for a hit since the car flipped that night. Then that fucker touched you…”
“You took care of him.” Absolute faith. The kind of faith I didn’t deserve…
“Yeah, I did. I just wish I’d gotten to him before he did that.”
Her shoulders lifted in a graceful shrug. “I had some bruises—everyone has been very determined to make me forget them.”
Yeah, I should have made it hurt more.
“And you cut off his fingers.” There was that smile again.
“You know what I adore about you, Boo-Boo?”
“My taste in coffee and donuts?”
A chuckle escaped at her response. “I will never argue with your taste in either. Though I may ask to share.”
“You don’t have to ask,” she said, her voice dipping a fraction with emotion. “Whatever I have, I’ll always share it with you.”
“What about when you get mad at me?” Playing with fire right now? Yep. I flicked the ash off the end of my cigarette.
“Hmm…even then. Though I haven’t been mad at you yet, so I’ll reserve the right to change my mind. Maybe I’ll make you watch me eat a donut first, then I’ll share.”
She looked so damn serious that I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m not the easiest guy, Boo-Boo.”
“I hate to break this to you,” she said, her expression barely shifting. “None of you are easy.”
“Well…” She had a point. “But I’m particularly difficult.”
“I’m a brat,” she tacked on with a shrug. “I bet I can be more irritating than you are if I set my mind to it.”
Huh. That was a thought. “How about a bet?”
“A bet?” When she straightened up, I reconsidered the offer for a heartbeat.
No, I wanted the bet. “Yeah, which of us can be more difficult and irritating to the others.”
“That feels like a trap,” she murmured, but it didn’t seem to dissuade her. “I don’t know if they need to be dealing with us being difficult right now…”
I laughed. “Maybe. Maybe not. Sometimes, giving them something else to think about can be fun—” Then again, I sighed. “Then again, maybe notnow.”
