Elizabeth laughed. Again, there was that flicker that said, “Yes.” I didn’t care what she said now.
“Well, I just get grossed out by the idea of going someplace where there might be a fight.”
“And yet you came to the club party on Saturday night.”
I laughed at her expression. She scrunched her eyes and pursed her lips. She knew I had her, but she didn’t want to admit defeat.
“All right, fine,” she said. “But I still pick.”
“Good,” I said. “I got your number from before. I’ll text you.”
“Wait—”
I ignored her further words. I’d come for what I needed to get. I was hurting, and I’d found a little bit of hope.
I had someone that, because of the possibilities running through my head, let me accept that not all of them might come to fruition.
Because even if they didn’t, it’d be a hell of a ride.
