She flips like a pancake to her back. “Uhm, that should be my line. I’m the one who’s younger with more energy.”
My fingers feather up her arm. “Let’s not judge based on a number.”
“Fine.”
I’ve taken this woman on her couch and in her bed, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m drowning in her. Ilearned how to swim long ago, but for some reason now, I can no longer swim to safety.
The way she smiles when she’s riding the wave of endorphins is new to me. It’s a good look on her.
“I should send my dress to the dry cleaner and make you pick it up,” she quips.
“Nah, that’s what I have money for. I’ll just buy you a new one.”
She pinches me, and I yelp to play along. “Are you saying I could have just used the company credit card and bought you new suits?”
“What fun would that be?” I let my eyes drift away from her and really explore her bedroom. It’s simple, except for a wall with a bunch of photos in various frames.
“Family?” I tip my head in their direction.
She doesn’t even need to follow my sight. “Yep. A few friends as well.”
Sure, I see people with family photos on their phones or when I go to somebody’s house. In this situation? It hits a little differently. Maybe because Savannah’s always distinct in a way that is only reserved for talking about her family. She has a unique aura. It’s a foreign concept for me.
I notice a framed piece of paper with lines from a crayon. “What in the world is that?”
It causes her to glance over her shoulder, and she smiles. “From my goddaughter.”
“It’s literally two lines that make zero sense. How does that end up in a frame?”
She swats me and laughs. “She’s just turned two. It was her first time holding crayons, and she drew a picture for me. I shall cherish it forever.”
“Yeah, no, not happening. I don’t think my parents even kept my prize-winning sea drawing I did when I was in firstgrade, let alone crayon lines. If I ever have a kid, I’m setting some rules.”
I’m not sure why any of that left my mouth. Both topics I do not wish to discuss.
“You want kids one day?” To be fair, I walked into that question.
I shrug. “Probably not. I would assume you want ten or something. Have to help on the farm in Purplehope.”
She snickers playfully. “First off, no way I’d have ten. I don’t live on a farm, and it’s Everhope, as you very well know. But no kids in my future anytime soon. I’m young still.”
“You are.”
“Anyhow, I’m going to enjoy my family not meddling right now. In ten years, if I live alone with a cat, then they’ll be sending men my way, I’m sure. Nobody loves meddling family,” she says lightheartedly, but my ears didn’t hear the tone.
Instead, the words strike me. “Absolutely fucking not,” I agree, but out loud and with grit in my tone. When I realize I let it slip, I sigh as I move and rest my head on the pillow next to her.
She looks at me, and her lips roll in, but she doesn’t say anything. Her face is pained, but it’s for me because she senses that there has been a shift in my mind. But it’s Savannah and she won’t pry. We may constantly snark and bicker with one another, yet she holds respect for topics that I wish to be untouched.
Maybe that’s the reason I find her more compelling. “I don’t talk to my dad at all. Not a single word. It’s been that way for years.” And it seems I’m letting her in.
She nods gingerly. “I’ve heard.”
“I was close with my grandmother, and when she passedwhen I was in college, it was in her will that I would become head of her company, but only once I graduated. My dad was interim CEO and made some moves to ensure I never got the company.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It gets better.” I grin bitterly to myself.
