Page 213 of Cross Checked
Except Cade was watching me.
Again.
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Pip.”
“What?”
“You’re doing math in your head.”
“I’m calculating damages.”
“For what?”
“My dignity.”
“You had dignity?”
I glared at him. “Hospital bed, Cross Check. Be nice.”
“You hate nice.”
“I hate whatever this is more.”
“What is this?”
“You being calm.”
“I’m calm?”
“You are Cade-calm, which is different from regular calm. Regular calm is soothing. Cade-calm makes me think you already know where the bodies are buried because you put them there alphabetically.”
“Alphabetically feels inefficient. I’d sort by weight distribution and soil displacement, then bury them based on probability of discovery.”
“That is somehow worse.”
“It’s actually safer.”
“See? Terrifying.”
He kisses my knuckles again before looking at me with eyes as blue as my lost Never. “You’re spiraling because I didn’t say anything back.”
I stopped breathing.
Subtlety had never been one of his strengths, apparently.
My eyes shot to his. “I did not say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Okay, first of all, rude. Second, invasive. Third, I’m on pain medication, so none of my facial expressions are legally binding.”
“Pip.”
“No.” I pointed one finger at him, immediately regretted it when my ribs protested, and lowered it with as much grace as possible. “Don’t Pip me. You don’t get to sit there with your stupid steady voice and your stupid lost-Never eyes and call me out like I’m not currently one bad cough away from seeing the afterlife.”
His expression softened, but the amusement stayed beneath it. “You think I’m not falling for you too.”
My heart stumbled.
