“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “But you’ve done more work on me in one afternoon than I’ve been able to do on myself in half a decade, so I think so. Ihopeso.”
Gently, she pushes my hair back before cupping my face in her palm.
“Then we can try that,” she agrees. “To improve your quality of life and mine, we can try that.”
And so starts my journey to forever, maybe, with me on my knees before a woman who deserves nothing less than total devotion, and her deigning to give my unworthy heart a chance.
I couldn’t dream of a better beginning.
Chapter Twenty-Three
?
Samantha is cute. Samantha is not getting a book. Donotask me about it.
Poem
“You and Fox are… dating?” Almond asks, pausing with her clippers three inches away from Emerson’s eyes, which widen—from the news or from the sharp object near his extremities, the world may never know.
“I don’t think so?” I answer, spinning in the rolling saddle chair my pink-haired friend uses when her work doesn’t require her to stand. Also known as the chair I commandeered when I got here after a frantic phone call begging me not to make her be alone with Emerson for fear she’d do something embarrassing. Like, say, slice his eyeball in half. For example. “I think it’s more along the lines of… wooing?” I continue, letting Almond slice or not slice as she likes. “Maybe. There was something about kissing, though, and I definitely enjoyed that bit. Also, apparently at the end of this I’m supposed to have either made him a better person or confirmed his belief that he isn’t worthy of love.” Which is a totally no-pressure thing for me to decide, obviously. It’s not, like, the fate of both of us on my shoulders or anything. “Isn’t that so fun?”
Almond’s clippers dip.
Emerson curses, grabbing her hand and turning the buzzing weapon off before she can use it to draw blood.
She blushes soft pink and stutters an apology. “I forgot you were there,” she whispers, mortified.
He waves her worry off. “I forgot I was here for a second, too,” he assures her before addressing me. “You’re saying thatFox Blackwoodfell on his knees before you and begged you to let him shower you in affection, kisses, and love, all without demanding anything back beyond you choosing whether or not you’d accept those things? This happening after you yelled at him about how wonderful he is?”
“I wouldn’t say ‘begged,’ exactly. It was more like… he kind of just told me it was going to happen.” And then I agreed. Because apparently when a man has depth, even if that depth is centered around self-loathing, I find that appealing.
Emerson’s jaw drops. “Fox?”
Almond nibbles at her lips nervously. “Is he okay?” she asks. “When I talked to Wolfe, he said that he was by the end, but apparently when he found him he was trying to crack his skull open with his desk.”
I frown. “He was doing that to the desk? The desk that has done nothing but good things for him?” Self-loathing or not, that’s just plain rude.
“Yes,” Almond replies. “And, also,his head.”
Well, we didn’t make out on hishead, so excuse me if I’m not so offended by what he does to that thing. A bonk or two might be good for him.
“Maybe he knocked loose some of his stupidity,” I suggest. “He was pretty quick to listen to me for probably the first time in his life. We could consider that evidence.”
“The man you believe to be an idiot and a moron confessed his love to you,” she reminds me. “Maybe we can accept that he does havesomeintelligence.”
I sniff. “You make a fair point.”
“All my points are fair,” she replies automatically. “You didn’t answer me, though. Is he okay? You saw him today and he was fine?”
“I saw him for about four seconds today,” I reply. “And during those four seconds he kissed me, licked my collarbone, shoved a piece of avocado toast in my mouth, said he’d see me at work, then walked out the door whistling.” Leaving me with wet skin, avocado in between my front teeth, and a fluttering stomach.
Almond’s face brightens. “That sounds much better than breaking down his desk with his noggin.”
“I’ll say,” Emerson mutters, eyeing the slip of skin where Almond’s collarbone peeks out of her bubblegum-pink gingham dress. “Sounds like he’s more than fine to me.”
I snort.
Almond starts, clearly having forgotten about Emerson again. Somehow. Despite him being a veritable giant and her being head over heels in crush with him. She must bereallyworried about Fox.
