I snort. Her mom voice doesnotwork on me, even if she feels like one some days, despite being only three years older.
“I don’t know how to answer that, Olive Piper. There are feelings. I don’t know if they’re all entirely positive.” I let the silence hang for a few beats, resisting saying the words aloud. “I can’t say they’re all negative, either.”
“You’re such a man,” she groans. “So, you’re falling in love with her but you really don’t want to. Got it.”
She might as well have karate chopped the strings holding up my heart, sending it plummeting, only to roundhouse kick me in the stomach. In conclusion, my heart is not where it’s supposed to be, and I’m breathless.
All the other emotions running through me muddle until they’re as clear as brown paint. I can’t discern any of the individual feelings anymore—just that there’s a fucking lot of them.
Attempting to appear unaffected, I peek one eye open. “I never said that.”
She arches a brow and tips her chin down, giving me a look like I should know better.
“You didn’t have to.”
I don’t like that response one fucking bit.
I close my eye. “I think you’re reaching.”
“I think you’re in denial.”
“I think it would be a slap in the face to my mom.”
I didn’t even mean to say that—it flew out of my mouth before I even realized I thought it.
Olive is quiet for a beat. “I think, considering Reverie’s circumstances and what she endured, that’s not true at all.”
I clench my jaw, almost hating how fucking happy it makes me to hear her say that. Even if I don’t know I agree.
“She’s still his daughter.’
“She didn’t choose that for herself, and you know it. You said she wants nothing to do with him, and she’s just as much in danger of him as you are. You think shewantsto be his daughter?”
I creak open my eyes to find Olive staring at me with a stern look.
Frowning, I say, “No.”
“And do you think Katherine would’ve punished Reverie for that? Do you think your mom would hold her responsible for Lionel’s crimes?”
My chest aches as I repeat, “No.”
“Then why the hell would it be a slap in the face? She would want you to be happy. And if Reverie can make you happy, then I think she’d make your mom happy, too.”
Insects crawl beneath my skin, and if she keeps talking, I might need to take a vacation from my skinsuit.
I groan and close my eyes again, extremely uncomfortable with this conversation, though more so with the idea of Reverie being someone capable of bringing me happiness. It’s such a foreign concept to consider, it’s jarring and deeply uncomfortable.
Kissing and fucking her was difficult enough, so it’s nearly unimaginable to accept how I could build a future with her—or fall in love with her.
A month ago, I would’ve cried from laughing so hard if anyone suggested for even a millisecond that’d ever happen.
Yet, here I sit, thinking it could fucking happen, except it’s not so funny now.
The couch subtly shifts next to me, as if someone is sitting beside me very carefully. I have a feeling the heavy, fast breathing next to my ear suggests someone is doing exactly that.
Saved by the bell.
A smile cracks across my lips, and I open my eyes, only to jolt when I see Junie kneeling beside me, only two inches from my face.
