That made sense.
He grinned. “And she gave great head.”
I rolled my eyes.
He surged up, caught me, twisted both of us, and I landed on my back with his delicious weight on top.
Nice move, Dreamer drawled.
I feel my control slipping every second, Logic groused.
As it always does, Dreamer returned. You never stay long. We’re too strong for that, Pessimism. You have your times when we need you, but when it’s time for you to go, we always win.
I went completely still.
“Willow?” Gabe called.
Hold up.
That wasn’t my Logic.
It was my Pessimism.
Holy shit.
Gabe cupped my cheek and ran a calloused thumb over my lips.
“Baby,” he said uneasily.
I focused on him. “It’s Pessimism.”
“Say again?”
“Not Logic,” I went on.
“Sorry, cupcake, you aren’t making any sense.”
“I…I need to think on this.”
“On what?”
God, was I going to give this to him?
Guess I was.
“I just realized I’ve mistaken pessimism for logic. I thought I was being smart. Protective. But I was being cynical.”
“And protective,” he added.
“Sorry?”
“Maybe you veered into the cynicism arena, but mostly it wasn’t pessimism. It was an overabundance of caution.”
Well then.
That sounded better.
I decided to go with that.
