Because that’s not how my life works.
“Right. Home should be wherever you are—I mean—where your person is. I get that.” I fumble over my words. I need him not to saykissing you. I’m not in any condition to hear those words... in that tone. I’m tired, needy, and too weak to remember my place when he gets all protective.
“I don’t think you do,” he says slowly. “Being with you is a privilege, and if he doesn’t want it, I promise you, someone else does.”
The storm is loud, but it’s nothing compared with what’s brewing between us.
Maybe I’m delusional, but I feel like the only time he gets angry is in my defense, and I use the termangryloosely. He’s never really angry. There’s no temperamental rage simmering just below the surface waiting for me to make a wrong move. Even his negative emotions are safe.
He also said theLword, but we all do.
When you love someone.
Those words are sure to tumble around in my mind later.
We’ve formed an odd little family between us, our respective roommates, and the guys’ drummer friend, Sam, over the last year. And we do theLword here, mostly because Sam enforces it. He tells us he loves us constantly, but it always feels differentfrom Daniel. Hearing it, even indirectly, brings out the big baby tears, and I’m glad it’s dark.
Right on cue, he licks my hand and says, “Little girl, why do you taste like strawberries?”
I sob-laugh and choke-snort, glad I have a tissue, as he pulls me into a headlock, dramatically kissing the top of my head like an Italian mob boss.
“It breaks my heart to know you made pies and I didn’t get one.” He smoothly changes the subject and the mood. “I expected more from my best friend.”
“I’m lucky to still be employed, so I probably shouldn’t get caught taking pies. I’ll make you one soon,” I promise with a watery smile in the dark.
He raises his phone, temporarily blinding me with the flash, snapping a picture in my face.
“Eww, no! What was that for?” I ask, putting my hand up too late.
“Jace.”
He shows me a text from Jace asking if I made it home.
“People will find out he’s not always a turd if he isn’t careful.”
He’s the second person tonight to make sure I’m safe other than who it should be, and it causes a burning sensation in my chest.
DC squeezes my shoulder. “That’s why he asked me and not you. He has a reputation to uphold.”
Another message lights up his phone. With his arm around me, I can see several notifications asking about the power outage.
“Sorry for the inconvenience, but the outage is due to the storm. I’ll check with the power company if it’s not restored by morning.”
He traps me between his arms to type the reply, placing his cheek near mine so he can see the screen, not caring to shield myview. Then he forwards the same response to others while my heart rate slows, and my frustrations are diffused by the scent of his wintergreen breath.
“Do you really consider me your best friend?” I blurt.
What the needy heck is coming out of my mouth? Shut up, shut up, shut up.
His voice lightens. “Yeahhhh, don’t you?”
“I guess I assumed Jace would have that title.”
“I can’t convince him to hug it out after a rough day.”
The mental image makes me giggle. “Sam would.”
“Nah.” He gives me a squeeze. “You smell better. And you fit perfectly under my arm. I’ll just keep you.”
