“There. I think this flows better.” He highlighted the middle portion. “Read that.”
I skimmed it, my eyebrows shooting up. The words flowed and the sentences felt natural.
“How…”
“You had the bones. You just needed to be a little creative with your arrangements. It’s pretty much all still your words, just switched around.”
“What about the conclusion? You said that was off too.”
“Yep.” He focused on the screen, his fingers flying over the keys and keypad. “That should do it,” he said a few minutes later, sitting back in his chair with a pleased smile on his face.
I read it over.
“Shit. That’s loads better.”
“You’re good at research. I think it’s your dyslexia that makes it hard to put your ideas on paper.”
“It’s so fucking annoying.” I plucked at the leg of my sweats. “I hate that I have to work twice as hard just to be average. Like if my stupid brain was normal, I could actually be something. Be smart.”
“Ash.”
Jules covered my hand and squeezed.
“There’s nothing wrong with you. Having dyslexia doesn’t mean your brain isn’t normal or that you’re stupid. It just means you learn a bit differently.”
“Being different is the same thing as being abnormal.”
“I don’t agree. What’s normal anyway? Everyone is different. I’m good at essays but suck ass at civics. You’re a whiz at math but struggle with language-based classes.”
“You might suck at civics, but you kick ass in every other subject.” I shot him a wry look. “Weren’t you the one who used to remind me that you had a 4.0 and I barely managed a 3?”
He flushed red.
“I’m sorry.” I squeezed his hand. “It’s not fair to bring up shit from the past, back when things were different.”
“I used to call you stupid a lot,” he said softly. “I never realized how much I was hurting you.”
“Yeah. That one stings. Doesn’t matter who says it. It hurts because it’s true.”
“It’s not true.” He shook my hand until I looked up at him. “You’re not stupid, Ash.”
I gave him a tight smile, appreciating what he was trying to do.
Unfortunately, a few nice words couldn’t erase the lifetime of insults, but again, that wasn’t his fault.
“So, what do you think you’ll get on my paper?”
“It’s your paper.” He rolled his eyes dramatically. “I just shifted stuff around. This is your work. I just tweaked it.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate it.” I lifted his hand and pressed a soft kiss against his knuckles.
He shivered, his pupils blowing as he stared at my mouth.
Hmmmm, he liked that. Better file that one away for future reference.
“What are we making for dinner?” I dropped his hand in my lap.
He blinked a few times like he was trying to clear his head as his cheeks pinked.