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Chloe nodded, letting me know that Trick noticing her pain made more sense to her, and she tipped two capsules into her palm before handing the bottle back. “Thank you.”
I grunted and returned the bottle to the console cubby, then pulled onto the road without another word.
On the other side of the truck, Chloe hugged herself and swayed slowly, just barely rocking.
“Is Riley okay?” she finally asked.
“She’s fucking fine,” I muttered, turning the truck right at an intersection. “And she should’ve known better than to keep pressing you like that until she hit a damn trigger.”
“No, she shouldn’t have. No one has to treat me like a fragile piece of spun glass that’s going to shatter the moment someone sneezes around me. I don’twantthat.”
I simply snorted and shook my head. “You could be ten-inch thick, tempered, plate glass infused with beams of steel rebar. You just had the impact of gale-force winds slammed against you. And it left cracks, whether you like it or not. You’re not a hundred percent yet, and you need time to heal. So give yourself a damn break.”
When she didn’t answer, I exhaled and asked, “You’re still visiting that therapist every week, right?”
“Yes,” she snapped irritably.
With a sigh, I considered grabbing the pill bottle for myself. Today was definitely not a good one for her, and it was miserable enough to give me a headache too.
She remained quiet the rest of the way home until I reached her place.
And that’s when she finally mumbled a snide, “Maybeyoushould consider seeing a therapist.”
I glanced over as I put the truck into park and killed the engine. “Excuse me?”
“You weren’t exactlyyourselftonight over there either, you know.”
I pulled back, shocked by that accusation. “I was fine,” I insisted.
But Chloe only snorted. “Yeah? Then why were you so quiet and off to the side the entire night, like you were simply a bystander? That’s not your usual M.O. And what thehellwas that dead fish response you had when I made the crack about your maturity level? You said absolutely nothing and just left me hanging.”
“So…” I squinted, trying to make sense of what she was saying. “You’re mad at me fornotinsulting you?”
“I looked like a complete asshole when you didn’t strike back!” she cried. “So yeah, I’m mad.”
“But I…” I winced and scratched the back of my neck. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” She lifted her eyebrows and gaped at me as if I’d lost my mind.
I shrugged. “Next time, I’ll…Jesus.” Throwing up my hands, I scowled at her. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say here. What if I just didn’t feel like insulting you at that moment?”
Her mouth dropped open as she gaped at me. Then she shook her head and scowled, hissing, “What?” as if my explanation made no sense to her.
“I’ve had a bit of a revelation, okay?” I mumbled, irritable about having to explain it. “I say stupid shit. A lot. And I don’t necessarilywantto be that way anymore. I mean, I was so inappropriate and wrong to you that night in the bar.” I shook my head and swallowed down the nasty taste that rose up my throat when I remembered what I’d done. “I made fun of your dating life and was completely dismissive of your restraining order. And then look at what happened, not even two hours later. God, it makes me feel sick to my stomach every time I think about it.”
“Luke…” Her voice softened sympathetically, and her eyes filled with pity. “Believe it or not, Iappreciateit when you smart back to me. It lets me know that things are still normal in the world. And sometimes, your big-mouth cracks are the only normal thing I feel like I can cling to. So honestly, I almostneedyou to be rude to me. Alright?”
I shook my head. “But what if I don’t feel like being rude sometimes?” When her brow furrowed in question, I tried to explain. “I want to be able to tell you that you look nice when I think you look nice andnothave you immediately seek some ulterior motive from my words. Because you look fucking nice tonight, and now I’m freaked out, worried I’ll never be able to actually sayanythingnice to you. I mean, has it always been like this between us? Or did I break something somewhere over the years that’s prevented us from ever beingrealwith each other?”
Chloe’s face paled and she started to shake her head. “N-no,” she said, frowning slightly. “Thisisreal. It’s the most real thing I have right now.”
“Whatis? Insults and snippy comebacks?” I asked, lifting my eyebrows. “Honestly?”
She stared at me without speaking, and I swear tears filled her eyes, but it was dark in the truck and I couldn’t see all that well. I opened my mouth to ask if she was okay, but she rushed to cut me off before I could speak. “It’s late. I have a headache. I’m going to bed.”
And she shoved open her door, popping out of the truck before I could even respond.
I sighed as I watched her hurry up to the front door. Then I shook my head and slowly climbed out of the truck as well.
