Page 204 of Devious Lies (Cruel Crown)
“Run your hands through your hair. Three times if you hate where you are. Two times if you think someone or something is idiotic. One time if…” I tipped a shoulder up, playing it off as if it meant nothing. “… you’re around me.”
I sucked at this fight thing.
Ceiling: Perhaps you shouldn’t do it. It’ll sure as shit make my life easier.
Me: For the record, I am not crazy. As we speak, he is literally holding a secret back from me. A lie of omission is still a lie! Why doesn't anyone get that?
“Full disclosure?” Nash asked.
“Yes.” I wanted to laugh, because he genuinely meant it each time he said it. “Jeez.”
&n
bsp; “I don’t know.” He drove me insane.
“That’s it?”
“I never realized I did it.”
“If you had to guess?”
He stared at both sides of his palms as if noticing them for the first time. “If I had to guess, it’s because I need something to do with my hands. Whenever you're around, they always want to touch you.”
Me: That was cute. I’m still allowed to hear him and fall for his charm, right?
Ceiling: BRB. Googling how to hide a body.
I toyed with a strand of lint on my jeans. “I’m not ready to have this conversation.” Yet. “There are so many unanswered questions… and I haven't seen my dad.”
I’d missed the bus to Dad’s yesterday, and ‘Hey, Dad, I figured out I’m not a product of your sperm’ didn’t seem like an appropriate text or email exchange. Especially since I had to frame it in my mind as a joke just to think about it.
“I know.”
My brows pulled together. “How do you know?”
“Full disclosure?” Again, he looked so serious, like he wanted to make sure I understood he meant everything that passed his lips.
“Oh, my God.” I rolled my eyes. “Yes.”
“You don't have a car, and I paid some kid a thousand bucks to keep an eye out at the nearest bus stop.”
Ceiling: I’ve changed my mind. You psychos are both made for each other.
My jaw slackened a bit before I recovered. “You realize that’s borderline psychotic, right?”
His neck corded, muscles so tight, they seemed fake. “You realize Billings and Dickens are on the bus route to Blithe Beach. Murder capital of North Carolina ring any bells?”
“I can take care of myself.”
The slow shake of his head bothered me. “I didn’t stop here to fight with you. I know you’re mad at me. I’m not asking for forgiveness, but you’re sleeping in a closet when you can sleep on a bed. I can kick Delilah out of the presidential suite.”
I blinked a few times, wondering if I’d heard that right. “You’re not kicking Delilah onto the streets.”
“She and her husband are worth more than the GDP of some industrialized countries. She’ll hardly be on the streets.”
“Nash, no.”
“My room.”
