Page 150 of You've Got Hate Mail
“Since Ihadto sleep, I had a dream that Fluffy ate a magical tree and turned into a dragon,” Lav says.
“Did you have to slay Fluffy?”
Shit. Where’s the cat?
Oh.
There she is.
Eating her breakfast.
I glance at Cricket again.
“Fast learner,” she says with a smile. “I saw how much you gave her. And I texted you that I did it so you wouldn’t do it too.”
Two things off my plate this morning.
It’s not just that she’s fucking gorgeous and that I like her brand of mess.
She sees things. Sees things that need to be done.
And she does them.
Without asking for anything in return beyond belonging.
The ideal version of a relationship.
While we’re both on our best behavior with this change in our status still so new.
I can’t turn off the wariness.
Just can’t.
“I want to wear braids today,” Lav says. “Two of them, please. And Cricket’s hair needs to match, so you have to do hers too.”
Doing Cricket’s hair.
When I can’t kiss her or strip her and fuck her on the countertop because my daughter’s here.
And I don’t know who I am that that’s my first thought, but I don’t hate it.
I feel—alive.
LikeI’vefinally gotten enough sleep to function again.
If it can last.
Day by day.
That’s what my parents would say.
Take it day by day.
“Only if Cricket wants me to do her hair,” I tell Lav.
“Oh, absolutely,” Cricket says. She hands me a cup of coffee. “Lav and I have to match, and we can’t match if we don’t have the same hair stylist.”
“You have an evil side,” I murmur to her.
