“Ooo. So, a badass, then.” I shake my head. “Face it, babe.I’mmore evil than you.”
I freeze, hearing what I said too late. He thankfully chooses not to harp on it. Thatbabewas a slip. It will not happen again.
“A history of anger mismanagement does not an evil being make.”
I haven’t told him about the anger management courses I took as a child. “So, he has dipped deeper into my memories than he’s admitted.”
“He can’t help it. You think of something, sometimes I see it.” He clears his throat, and I know that was a lie. He sees everything. Even if it’s not intentional, he knows far more about me and my past than he’ll ever admit. I need to level the playing field.
I lean back in my chair and cross my arms in an attempt at a casual stance. “Who’s Jenna?”
“Jenna?” he asks innocently, grabbing for the TV remote like he would much rather be watching the show than talking about this. Too bad.
“Jenna. In your memory, you almost called her. Who is she?”
“I knew I should have edited that bit out.” He closes his eyes heavily before reopening them. “Someone I haven’t thought about in a while. Just an ex. I broke up with her because I knew I was going to die. We dated for a while, and things were getting serious. Too serious. She needed to find someone else. Someone she could have the life she wanted with.”
“You loved her,” I say, knowing it’s a fact and not a question.
“Sure.” He sighs. “Yeah, but it doesn’t matter. Not meant to be. A different lifetime now.” He clears his throat, clearly done talking about this. “So. Research?”
I decide to give him a break. “Sure.”
“Do you know where your laptop is? Did I see it in your room?”
“Yeah. On my bed.”
But then I remember something.Shit. All the research I did the night before on exorcisms. I didn’t close out of any of the web pages.
“Or,” I say quickly. “We could go in blind. That could be fun.”
He chuckles as he stands from the couch. “Maybe for a random weekly video you would post, but not for something like a competition. You want to be as well-versed as possible, right?”
I don’t respond since I don’t know what to say. He doesn’tseem to notice. Kit enters my bedroom and picks up my laptop, settling himself on my bed with his back against the pillows before he opens it.
He types in my password without asking what it is, because of course, he knows it.BuffyxFaith97!
As expected, the first page the computer opens to is the exorcism verse I found.
“Uh,” he says, tapping the screen, “what’s this?”
“Uh,” I mimic. “A prayer?”
“Suddenly religious, are you? What’s the prayer for?”
Shit. What do people pray about? “Plentiful crops?”
He exhales and shuts the laptop. “Were you trying to exorcise me?”
I hang my head, ashamed for no reason. “Yes.”
“That’s rude.”
“Eh.”
He reopens the laptop and closes every page detailing anything to do with exorcisms. “Well, you didn’t apologize, but you are forgiven. So, research time.”
I was expecting more of a scolding. “Wait, you’re not mad?”
