Page 118 of Best Kind of Trouble
“Yeah.”
“And now you’re worried that I’ll take off into the night with a sack of hops.”
“No,” she says with a soft smile. “Should I be?”
I know what she’s really asking. She wants to know if I’m going to fuck her over, like so many other people have.
I wrap my hand around her chin and lift it slightly, needing her eyes to meet mine. “I wouldn’t intentionally hurt you. I’m on your side, no matter what. I want to protect you and yourinterests. And I have to tell you, you had no way of knowing that woman had bad intentions. You’re not psychic, and thank God. You’re already a triple threat.”
She lifts her eyebrows, a smile spreading across her face. “Oh, yeah?”
I run a finger across her lips. “Beautiful. Smart. And kind.”
She leans into my touch and says, “Considering other people’s feelings is a weakness. I didn’t make the rules.”
“But we make our own rules, remember?”
“We’re not very good at following them.”
I smile as I lean in and kiss her. “Maybe not, but I’ll bet you’re good at making jewelry, and it just so happens I got my sister a spectacularly shitty Christmas present. Maybe you can help me not embarrass myself. Teach me how to make something for her.”
“You don’t actually want to learn,” she quips, smiling as she says it.
“Like hell. I’ve been waiting my whole life for a beautiful woman to teach me how to do something useful.”
Her smile stretches wider. “Okay, but remember you said you wanted to learn. You have no one to blame but yourself if you don’t like it.”
“I will.” I steal another kiss. “But let’s put onRocky IIso I feel extra manly while we make jewelry.”
We watchRocky IIwhile Briar shows me how to wrap wire around the stones. She makes it look easy, but it isnotfucking easy, and mine looks like a Macaroni Picasso a toddler would take home.
“That’s really good,” Briar says, tracing her finger over the pendant I’m trying to make.
“Look at you, lying to my face.”
She laughs. “Itisgood. You just got started.”
“My hands are too big for this.”
“We can fix it.”
And no shit, she gets right in and makes it look like I made something worth keeping.
“Only with a great stretch of the imagination can I say I made that,” I point out.
“We made it together,” she replies, and a warm feeling spreads through my chest. I never thought much of group projects. But maybe all those teachers who assigned them to us were onto something, because it feels good, building things with Briar.
Or maybe that’s justBriar. She’s a natural leader. A person who builds people up rather than tearing them down. The true opposite of her shithead father.
I lean in and kiss the side of her face. “You’re a good teacher. Maybe this will butter Hannah up enough that she won’t kill me.”
“We’re going to tell her about us?” she asks, her voice tremulous. “Does this mean you want to keep doing this?”
“I don’t want it to be the end of something when she gets back. I want it to be the beginning.”
“Me too,” she says with a smile that wrecks me.
She wants me too. I take a moment to revel in that before continuing:“And it may not be my place, but I don’t think you should give up something you love because you had the shit luck of having a bad friend. As you know, I’ve had some bad friends too.”
