That my good girl-ness succumbs to when he is close.
“Like you did that night,” I continue, studying his healing bruises that my dad is going to make worse if he finds out Reign’s up here, in my bedroom. “Because don’t think that I don’t know. I know now. Iknowthat you didn’t stop my dad, didn’t say a word even though you could’ve. Even though for all intents and purposes, you’re my dad’s boss too. And I also know that you did all that because you felt guilty. You felt that it was your fault, what happened. When it’s crazy and not at all true. And you can say no a million times but I’m going to prove it. So you have to leave. Now.”
It’s like he can’t hear me.
Or rather he can, he just doesn’t care.
Because my second outburst of the night — God, why can’t I calm down when he’s close; why do I have like zero chill when it comes to this guy — makes him smile.
Not a smirk but an actual, genuine if small-ish smile.
He tilts his head to the side, his eyes alive and on me. “You know, you’re breaking my heart right now.”
“You don’t… You don’t have a heart. You’re heartless.”
Lies.
He’s anythingbutheartless. I know that now.
He puts a hand on his chest. “Well, whatever it is, it’s racing right now.”
I swallow shakily, remembering his exact same words from the night of The Horny Bard. “I hope it’s racing fast enough for a heart attack.”
He chuckles and my belly flutters. “I come all this way for you and this is the welcome I get.”
“I’m trying to save your life, you idiot. And I didn’t call.”
Another lie.
Probably bigger than my first one.
“I came anyway. And let’s do this once again, I don’t need you to save me.”
“I —”
“Although you can’t help it, can you?”
“Can’t help what?”
“This. Being such a good girl.”
“I-I am a good girl.”
“I know. Always trying to fix things, save them.”
“That’s not —”
“It’s a tragedy really.”
“W-why?”
He lowers his voice. “Because good girls are not much fun.”
“That’s not… That’s not true.”
“No?”
“I’m plenty fun,” I say lamely.