Page 31 of Through the Storm

“Google said cold water,” she shoots back. “So stop whining. Also, this is what you get for being an asshole yesterday with your eyes comment.”

“Okay, be honest,” I say, squinting at her. “Did you put Ella up to this? Because I feel like we’re even now, Katy Cat.”

She rolls her eyes. “Of course not, you idiot. I do like your eyes, unfortunately. And my revenge strategies are different. More enjoyable for me.”

I groan. “Don’t remind me.” Now I can’t stop thinking about her with other men. I have some graves to dig.

She huffs a laugh, but her hands are still gentle as she steadies the bowl. Like she forgot she’s mad at me.

“Seriously, are you okay? Do I need to take you to urgent care?”

I blink hard, eyes burning. “Yeah. I’m totally fine. Can’t say I highly recommend getting maced at a family dinner, though.”

“Ella feels terrible.”

I narrow my eyes. “Does she?”

“Yes.”

“Doesn’t seem like it. She’s blaming me!” I rub at my face again, wincing.

“You’re such a big baby.” She laughs, but she doesn’t stop fussing over me.

And even though I just got chemically attacked, I’m weirdly grateful for it because she’s touching me like she still cares.

KATY

Poor Ben. His icy blue eyes are red, and he looks like one of those weirdhairless cats. But he still powered through dinner, calmly answered Declan’s inquisition, and somehow managed to charm Grandma Patty even more.

After dinner, he helps with the dishes. He’s so cute.

“Come take a walk with me,” he says once he’s done loading the dishwasher.

I blink. “Right now?”

“Yeah. Didn’t Ella say you have to walk after meals?”

“Ben, you just got?—”

“Maced,” he finishes for me. “Yeah, I’m aware. My legs do still work, though.”

I cross my arms. “You should probably sit down. Or rinse your eyes again. Or, I don’t know, not walk around in the dark like a liability. Also, I don’t really walk nowadays, I waddle. It’s embarrassing.”

He pushes off the wall anyway.

“You waddle adorably,” he says simply. Then, softer, “You need to take care of yourself. And the kitten.”

Ugh, he knows where to hit me. Because I do worry every day about my baby. If I’m doing enough to keep him or her safe.

I look away, exhaling slowly. “Fine. Might be a good idea to do it more often anyway. Nothing fits me anymore.”

He doesn’t argue. Just steps closer, close enough that I can feel the warmth of him.

“Of course nothing fits, it’s not supposed to,” he says.

I sigh. “I know. But it’s so annoying. I don’t even have a dress for the triplets’ birthday party. I hate how everything looks on me.”

“I’ll help you find something you love tomorrow. Now, come on. Around the block. No talking required.”