AllFreeNovel
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“There isn’t a room in this penthouse that doesn’t have some sort of weapon secured in it, plus, the walls are reinforced because my father’s construction company – Wahl to Wahl – reinforces the penthouse levels of all their properties by design. It makes them a shit ton more expensive but also a shit ton more defendable in case of an attack from the sky level versus the ground.” Bending my legs to rest my arms over them is attached to my own innocent shrug. “I’m always prepared.”
“Yeah, I don’tthinkthat’s what the Boy Scouts meant by that motto.”
“Maybe not, but it’s definitely what theMan Scoutsdid.”
“Ugh.” A look of disgust instantly covers her expression. “That sounds like a bad Village People tribute bar. Is that really what they call the military?”
“No, I jus’ get a kick out of it when you makethatface this early.” She narrows her gaze in my direction prompting me to lightly laugh. “And that one.”
Honestly, I love seeinganyexpression from her first thing in the morning.
Our “too tired to drive home” sleepovers have always been my favorite since the first time they happened.
There’s just something about seeing her so relaxed and so content before the day has a chance to color her with its words.
Literally.
While Arley occasionally sees her condition in a positive light – getting lost in the way music comes alive and movies pop off the screen – she more often than not allows herself to be limited by it. Barricaded in her home or mine or the office due to the anxiety that comes from being able to see something other people can’t. The burden that comes frominterpretingemotions in ways others don’t. She typically teeters between embracing and cursing the medical anomaly, which is why I love to see her first thing in the morning before there’s anything to accept or deny.
Those first few moments in the morning where she just…is.
Where she just acceptsher.
My best friend shakes her head on a small giggle prior to asking, “How is it I’ve been here a million times and seriously had no idea that this place really is on some John Wick shit?”
“Because the best operatives know how to keep things hidden in plain sight.” An amused, impressed hum instantly slips free from her, and the sound has pride unconsciously pushing my shoulders back. “So, Angel Cake, where exactly were you stompin’ off to?”
“I wasn’t stomping.”
“It’s like you were doin’ the Texas Two-Step in boots fresh out the box.”
“You know I only own one pair of those.”
“Idoknow that ‘cause I was the one that bought ‘em.” And dream about seeing them slung over my shoulders every time she puts them on. “Where were you headed?”
“To the kitchen. I needed to…check my bag.”
Suspension has me instantly investigating, “Your bag or your phone?”
“Bag.”
“For?”
“Something.”
“What?”
“You…” her teeth steal a small nervous bite of her bottom lip, “don’t wanna know.”
“I do.”
“You don’t.”
“I do.”
“Trust me, Cowboy, you don’t.”
The phrasing has me rising to my feet at the same time I grump, “And trust me, Angel Cake,I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”
