Not her.
“Sorry, I’ll leave you to it,” she mutters following my lack of a response.
She’s pushed to her feet, ready to head back to the house, when my hand darts upward and I catch her wrist midair. I didn’t even mean to do it. Nor do I mean to sound like a world-class pussy as I mumble, “Thank you.”
She’s stunned but snaps out of it fast enough.
“For what?” she questions like she genuinely doesn’t know.
“Saving my life,” I clarify.
I can feel my fingers tugging on her wrist, willing her to sit back down, and wonder why my body is a defying asshole that won’t listen to my brain. Taken aback by my silent request, she complies, regaining her seat by my side.
She cracks a smile once she’s sat down in the wet grass.
“What else was I going to do? Let you fall?”
“You could’ve,” I point out. “After everything I’ve done to you, I wouldn’t blame you.”
I expect her to feed me another nauseatingly nice line, but instead, she smacks me in the back of the head.
Shocked, I blink at her.
Did she just hit me?
“That’s what you deserve for everything you’ve done to me.” She shrugs. “Notdeath.”
With that said, she directs her focus to the distant light and rosy colors casting over the hill. The sun should be rising at any moment now.
She hit me.
She hit me in the fucking head, and I’m smiling.
This girl is a goddamn mystery to me.
I scoff. “You’re something, Mitchell.”
She flips her head to look at me. “A good something or a bad something?”
The kind of something I want to break and protect all at once.
“Jury’s still out.” I gently bump my shoulder into hers.
“Don’t make me regret dragging your ass off that bridge, Richards,” she teases.
We don’t speak for a few seconds, staring into the distance.
She breaks the silence. “I have a question.”
“Shoot.”
“What was that shady meeting in the woods about?”
“I owed the scumbag money,” I say.
“No shit.” She snorts. “What I meant is why? Aren’t you rich?”
My entire body contracts at her question.