Page 110 of Lucky's Trouble

“You don’t say.”

My tone turns serious. “I’ll always find you and bring you back to me. Always. There are no lengths I wouldn’t go, no mountains I wouldn’t climb.”

A tear runs down her cheek. “Deep down, I knew that. I was just scared.”

“Me too.” Deciding we don’t need any more seriousness tonight, I say, “It won’t happen ever again, though, because you know how some conjoined twins can choose to be separated?”

Her brows knit together. “Yeah?”

“Well, we’re having the opposite done. I’m finding a doctor to surgically attach us together.”

She shoves my chest. “You’re an idiot.”

“And if I can’t find someone to do that, then I’m just never letting you out of my sight again.”

“You have to work.”

“You’re coming with. I’ll teach you all about carburetors and spark plugs. You’ll love it.”

She smiles. “What about the ranch?”

“Oh, you’re for sure coming with me to the Honey Pot. We have this galaxy room where I can plant an alien egg in your ass.”

A bubble of laughter escapes her, surprising us both. “What?”

“I’ll show you. It’ll be fun.”

“What about if I want to work?” she asks.

“I already told you you’ll work with me.”

There’s something she’s been thinking about that she hasn’t told me. This line of questioning isn’t coming from nowhere.

“I have no interest in carburetors and alien eggs.”

“I think you’re dismissing the alien stuff too soon, but what are you interested in?”

“I was thinking about getting a cosmetology license so I can be a hairstylist or maybe even a makeup artist.” She suddenly finds the wall behind me fascinating because she focuses her blue eyes over my shoulder. “But it’s a dumb idea, and I probably wouldn’t be any good at it anyway.”

“You should do it.”

Her eyes snap to mine. “You think?”

“Hell yeah. I’ll go to class with you and be your model.” I bat my lashes.

“You’re really rolling with this idea of never letting me out of your sight.”

I place my hands on her knees and give her some honesty. “I will. Just give me some time, okay? I wasn’t okay while you were gone, and I just need some time.”

“Okay. I can give you all the time you need.” She yawns, which makes me yawn.

“Let’s get some sleep.” I help her off the vanity, and she grabs another towel before following me into the bedroom. She takes her time towel-drying her hair and brushing through the tangles with her fingers while I pull mine up into a bun on the top of my head and secure it with an elastic.

Dropping my towel, I regret not wearing underwear for once and quickly get into bed. I feel entitled to her time, her thoughts and opinions, being part of her future, but I’ll never feel entitled to her body. Too many men in her life have stripped her of her bodily autonomy, but that’s not me. Never fucking me.

“There are some sweats over there. Not sure who they belonged to, but they’re clean,” I say.

“I’ll wear them tomorrow.” She picks up the black sweatpants and tan sweatshirt with the Sons of Erebus emblazoned on the back. “Guess I’m free-balling it tomorrow like my boyfriend.”

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