Page 144 of The Next Lie

Cal’s mouth twitches. Mine does too, against my will.

“That sounds healthy,” he says.

“Shut up.”

“And what about Deacon?”

Reva’s fingers tighten around the grass stem until it breaks. “He is a disaster, and sometimes I think I hate him.”

“That bad?”

“Worse.”

“But you care about him?”

She turns her face away. That is answer enough.

Cal exhales slowly. “And you chose this?”

Her head comes back around fast. “Yes. You should know me well enough that they wouldn’t get within spitting distance if I hadn’t.”

He nods. “I reckon that’s true enough. Okay, then. That’s all I needed to know.”

She stares at him. “You’re not going to tell me I’m making a mistake?”

“I mean, you probably are.”

“Cal.”

“I think you are standing in the middle of a burning house and calling it warm. But I also think you know that, and you don’t need me to tell you.”

Her mouth presses flat. Reva’s voice drops. “Do you think less of me?”

Cal looks wounded by the question. “No,” he says, immediately.

She looks down.

“Kid, look at me.”

For once, she does.

“There is nothing you could want or do that would make me love you less.”

Her face crumples for half a second before she saves it. I look away before I see too much. When I look back, Cal is walking toward the path. Toward me.

I consider stepping back—too late. He rounds the hedge and stops.

His eyes meet mine, and there’s no surprise in their depths. Damn him. He knew I was here.

“Eavesdropping?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“At least you’re honest.”

“When convenient.”

He looks past me toward the house, then back at my face. “Walk with me.”