How did I ever —God, ever— fall in love with him?
But it’s okay.
It’s fine.
As I told him last night, I’m not the same girl. I’m not going to do his bidding. When he tells me to jump, I’m not going to ask him how high.
Time to show him that.
So I take a deep breath and smile. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”
He watches me. “You will.”
“Yes.” I nod, still smiling. “I mean, I don’t like it because I freaking hate you and I wish I never met you. But you’re right. There’s no need for me to be reckless and stupid when I can be smart. So if you’re offering me a ride, I’ll take it.”
Reed is suspicious.
He studies my features, and I school them to look serene and calm.
Which is hard, but somehow I manage to do it.
When he’s satisfied, he sighs and throws out a short nod. “Good.” Then he murmurs almost to himself, as he sips his coffee, “Because I didn’t bring your brother that deal just to have you snatched up by another villain because of your stupidity.”
Deal?
Mention of it throws me slightly and I almost slip up.
But again, somehow I manage to keep smiling as I tighten my grip around the lemonade and wait for my chance.
I get it when he looks away from me and puts the mug down on the table.
I spring up from my seat then and before I can second-guess it, I dump my lemonade on his lap. And beforehecan have any sort of reaction to that, I stomp on his foot.
The one that was super close to me when he decided to settle in and crash my brunch.
“You can pay the bill, asshole,” I snap.
I think he chuckles. I’m not really sure because my focus is on the next part of my plan: running and getting the heck out of there.
Wyn, who’s been sitting at a table by the door, looks at me with shocked eyes.
“Run, run, run,” I tell her and she jumps up from her seat and does what I asked her to.
Together, we push open the door and burst out of there.
My heart is beating in my ears. My body is full of adrenaline and I don’t know where I’m going.
I don’t know where I’m taking Wyn, but she doesn’t question me. She keeps running beside me even as people watch us zoom down the sidewalk, in our mustard-colored skirts and our flying braids.
We keep running until I come upon an alley, far enough away from Buttery Blossoms, and take a turn into it. Coming to a halt, we both prop ourselves against the brick wall, panting.
I’m not sure how much time has passed until Wyn asks, “What happened?”
I roll my head against the wall to look at her. “I dumped my lemonade on his lap.”
Wyn’s eyes go wide before a chuckle bursts out of her. “You did not!”
I chuckle too, unable to believe that I did that. “Then I stomped on his foot.”
