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Her gaze falls on my lips. Her thumb traces in the wake of her attention. “I really like you, Rowan. You should trust yourself a little more. And perhaps locate a boundary or two.” Her eyes deepen and darken, ocean blue, the sky after a storm. “If I crawl into bed with you when you’ve told me no, what will you do? Setting a boundary is not about controlling someone else. It’s about making your response to abuse clear.”
My immediate thoughts of what I’d do aren’t anything I am willing to say aloud. Once I’ve parsed through them, however, all I can come up with is: “Just. Don’t.”
Her lips touch my forehead, and the sensation is something more gentle than anything I have ever known before. She says, “We’ll work on it.”
After Briar slips away with a promise to return with her things, I lift my hand to my head.
It…burns.
Chapter 16
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Moving in with the grump—AKA a romcom.
Briar
“This is ahead of schedule,” Lace says as she stuffs the things she’s bringing with her to The Casa into a single duffle bag. Despite having four times as much luggage, Chip finished packing hours ago.
I will not be drawing attention to that, though.
That would be cruel.
Lifting a shoulder, I scroll through my personal phone for information about the restaurants near The Casa. After all, it’s only logical that Rowan would take his fiancee out for a celebratory dinner after she moves in with him. It has nothing to do with my own personal wishes. Obviously. “That unexpected kiss a couple weeks ago really accelerated my timeline.”
Lace stops cramming ten tank tops into her bag. “What?”
I blink. Look up. “What?”
A feral gleam spreads her smile wide, and she bounces onto the bed beside me, throwing an arm around my shoulders. “A kiss? What kiss?”
Oops. I forgot. I only told Chip about my wee mistake since I normally only have girl talk with him. I suppose all my plotting energy has been sapped as of late. It takes a lot of mental power to gaslight, gatekeep, and girlboss. Clearing my throat, I say, “There may have been a kiss.”
“He kissed ya?”
“No.”
She claps a hand to her mouth. “Ya kissed him? Bossette, that’s assault.”
My eyes roll. “It was a questioning little peck. And he didn’t tell me to stop. So I’m going to go with no, it wasn’t.”
She shrugs. “Men are wolves. Even the ones in sheep’s clothing. Ya never know when one of them’s gonna crack.” Her lips curl. “Why, just last night you wouldn’t believe what Chip—”
“Lace.” I’m recalling why I don’t ever broach the subject of romance with Lace. Chip’s notions of affection lean toward emotions. His wife’s focus is more physical. “I don’t need to know about private matters with your husband.”
She sucks her teeth and returns to her over-stuffed duffle bag. The zipper truly doesn’t have a prayer. “You’re too innocent for the roles ya put yourself in, Bossette.”
Overly confident, perhaps. Innocent? I don’t think so.
Innocent people don’t coordinate how to break people, and succeed, time and again. Innocent people don’t understand enough about the world to effectively tear lives apart like I do. Innocent will only ever be the guise I present as a tool to attain my goals of destruction.
“Hey, Lace?”
“Hm? Yeah?” She wrestles with the zipper, regardless of the fact I’m certain it’s busy writing its will.
“Am I a horrible person?”
“If monsters had a contest, you’d win.”
