Eat Crow (Cheap Thrills 6)

I moved quickly to put my hand over his mouth to stop him from finishing the sentence, not realizing how close my hand was to his face until I heard the slap and felt the sting in my palm. Yanking my hand away again, I stared wide-eyed at where he was now rubbing.

“Oops, I didn’t mean to do that. I was just trying to get you to shut up.”

“Ever considered just saying shut up instead of hitting a police officer?”

Oh, shit, I’d assaulted a law enforcement officer. That was illegal. Wait, could I be tried for assaulting one if it happened while we were in bed and was a total accident? Could my defense be: “Because he was going to say something stupid, your honor, and I didn’t want to hear it”?

A good defense is a counter-argument, right? So that’s what I was going to do. “I’m certain if I explained how many times we’d hashed out that one blip—”

“Blip? It lasted seven years and took you away from your family,” he snapped. “A blip is a week, not seven years of weeks.”

“I was away at college for, like, five of those years, Logan.”

“Yeah, and you didn’t come home unless I was away, or you could hide being here from me.”

“Still,” I huffed, rolling my eyes, “five years needs to be deducted because I wouldn’t have lived here during it anyway.”

“Fine,” he growled, throwing a hand in the air, “the blip lasted two years. Happy?”

Holding a finger up, I shook it at him. “Ah, but that can be disputed, too.”

“Did we suddenly end up in a trial?” he mumbled, looking confused by our situation.

“Well, yes!” I wanted to avoid getting a record for hitting a police officer. “The position I just got at the school wouldn’t have been vacant after I graduated, so I probably would have moved anyway to get a job. I couldn’t be home for those two years because I wouldn’t have employment and money to survive. Ergo, I wouldn’t have been here for the remaining two years of the seven year term.”

Logan was staring at me, but when I finished my argument, he blinked and said nothing.

“So, you see?” I pressed, proud of myself for my reasoning skills. “Man, I should’ve been a lawyer. I’m totally awesome at it.”

“Did—“ he started, tilting his head and still looking dazed. “Did you just say ergo?”

“Well, yeah? I’m legalizing the shit out of this case.”

“Legalizing the shit out of the case? What case are we even disputing?”

“The fact that I wouldn’t have even been able to live in Piersville for those seven years I was away.” As his eyebrows went from confused to making a butt between them with his frown, I jumped up onto my knees and pointed at him. “Ah ha, you can’t handle the truth!”

Groaning, he dropped his head back and covered his face with his hands. “Now you’re quoting movies.”

“No,” I said slowly, “I’m pointing out that you can’t handle the truth about me not being able to live here. Yes, I had a reason to stay away, but I also couldn’t afford to live without my job. My family has a furniture business, but my heart’s in teaching, and that’s where I chose to go.”

Dropping his hands, he glared at me. “Yeah, but you could’ve found a job closer than Boston.”

“I’ll give you that,” I agreed. “But, bruh, I’ve let go of it, and it’s time you did the same.”

“So is the case over?” he asked, still glaring at me.

Shrugging, I dropped down onto a hip and smiled at him. “Yup, and I won it.”

With a growl, he launched himself at me and started tickling me. “If you’re not careful, I’m going to get shit with spiders on it for the house.”

He could tickle me all he wanted, I wasn’t going to laugh. He just broke out a serious war. “If you do that, I’ll get those solar-powered butterflies and stick them everywhere so you can’t tell what’s real and what’s fake.”

The smile he’d been watching me with faded, making me feel smug. Well, that was until he said softly, “I know what’s real—how I feel about you. How I’ve felt about you for as long as I can remember.” I wasn’t expecting it, so I didn’t know how to reply. “I used to wake up every morning, excited about seeing you. When school finished, I’d drag my heels leaving if we weren’t doing something together after it because it meant I wouldn’t see you until the next day. I used to bug my parents constantly to arrange something with yours at the weekends and during the school breaks. Then things changed—” he’d told me recently about his dream and why he’d changed, so I understood this “—and I still wanted them, even though I tried not to.”

Feeling tears starting to build, I licked my dry lips and decided to give him some beauty back. “I did the same with my family, even getting Pops to make plans with your grandpa so that it didn’t look so obvious. Whenever I came home from college and Boston, I’d stare at your house, the police department, your parents’ house… so that I could see you. I’d make sure you weren’t home when I came, but I also wanted your plans to change so you were.”

“I wish you’d come home for a different reason, baby.” He looked around the room to show what he meant, but I already knew.