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“He has been making that face since we met. I think he might have been born with it because there is a baby photo of him making that face at whoever is taking the picture.”

I pull myself up onto the counter and watch as Vero figures out my oven—the temperature dial sticks and he doesn’t realize it yet. When I reach down and fix it for him, he looks at me and then at the dial.

“You knew it was broken?”

I nod. “I was curious how long it would take you to figure it out.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “Nothing will keep me from my nuggets, woman.”

He places the tray in and steps between my legs. “You good?”

“I am now because you’re here,” I tell him.

He grabs his second bag of sour worms from the counter beside us and pulls one out, offering the bag to me.

I shake my head and he shrugs. “Brawley wanted me to walk you home tonight. They were all busy doing boy stuff, which sounded boring. I prefer to be around you.”

“I like being around you as well.”

“Three more minutes.”

I laugh. “If you are referring to your nuggets, the oven hasn’t even warmed up yet.”

“It will be fine. I can negotiate with it.”

I smile at him. There is no way I will let him eat half-frozen nuggets. He can learn to have some patience.

After fifteen minutes, he deems them cooked enough. He brings them to the bed, and we put on the television, choosing a serial-killer documentary. Vero is the only person insane enough to enjoy them with me. Brawley vetoed it last night, and sure that ended in sex, but Vero is content to eat his nuggets and commentate how he’d have done things differently so he wouldn’t get caught.

Meeting him was hands down the best thing that has ever happened to me. Though it was a little rocky there for a minute, I’m glad I forgave him and didn’t let my past with Aaron ruin it for me.

Chapter Seventeen

Kayla

The carousel has been making weird sounds for a week, and Clay agreed to have a look at it after Nixie told him that since we broke it, we’d better fix it. He has no experience fixing anything here, but Cipher has been MIA, so apparently Clay’s words were, “How hard could it be?”

“It’s the belt,” Clay says.

“It’s not the belt,” Ares argues.

Vero is lying on his back underneath the platform, while Brawley squats down and shines a flashlight underneath so Vero can see.

I’m sitting on the platform, my legs dangling off the side, watching them all with amusement. None of them can agree on what is wrong. Mostly since none of them know anything about machines, not that there is any way they would admit that.

Vero’s hand appears from under the platform. “Pass me the flashlight.”

“You don’t need it,” Brawley says. “You have been under there for ten minutes and haven’t touched a thing.”

“I’m assessing to see what is wrong, but I can’t see shit.”

“You are lying on your back, trying to look busy.”

“I have been finding a comfortable position, and I don’t see you on the ground. Flashlight please.”

Brawley sighs and passes it into the hand sticking out from beneath the carousel.

“Thank you . . . Oh, wow.”