“Ahh, okay, so I get it now,” he said thoughtfully, and I really didn’t want to bite.
I even felt myself clenching my butt cheeks from trying so hard not to. But then with the lack of squats in my life… I released my ass and broke.
“What? What do you get, Bo?” I asked, already hating myself.
“Lily-pad… your sister, the hot one, that’s why she called you Lily-pad.”
I froze and released a pent-up groan that wasn’t my first and no doubt wouldn’t be my last… not by a long shot. Goddess, I needed coffee. He grinned, pleased with himself.
“Obsession with frogs… Bit jumpy… Snappy tongue… a bit of a loner… yep, it tracks.”
I snorted despite myself, the sound slipping out before I could stop it as I grabbed the stuffed frog from my bed and shoved it into his chest.
“Congratulations,” I told him dryly.
“You’ve cracked the case. Yes, Lily-pad. My mother thought it was adorable. I did not.”
“Yeah, it totally shows,” he snorted, gesturing a skinny arm out around the room.
“I love my mother,” I insisted, making him raise a brow.
“And she turns into a frog on a full moon, or what?”
My wry look said it all.
“No, smart ass. But she did used to buy me frogs, telling me I was their lily pad. Hence, the collection.”
“She buy you all of these?” he asked, his tone a little astonished.
“I am twenty-seven,” I stated, making him frown.
“Yeah, so?”
“So that’s twenty-seven birthdays, Easters and Christmases… now you do the math,” I said, gesturing to my frog army.
He nodded his head before saying,
“Well, color my ass a shade greener, yeah, that’s a lot of frogs.”
“No shit,” I said, not bothering to delve into the fact that my Pagan mother was quite happy celebrating all manner of holidays, whether she believed in them or not. And therefore, what she very much believed in was having any excuse to buy her daughter’s gifts or making life fun for us.
I cleared my throat and straightened, suddenly aware that the softness of the moment was dangerously close to being real.
“You done psychoanalyzing my psyche?” I asked, forcing lightness back into my voice.
“Or are you planning on critiquing my entire personality before breakfast?”
Bo hopped down with a huff.
“Relax, Lily-pad. I’ve seen worse.”
I scoffed a laugh, one that died when he told me,
“I’m from Hell, remember?”
“How could I forget?” I muttered, already turning toward the bathroom.
“And for the record, you’re not allowed in here.”
