Page 64 of Cuts Like an Angel: Part 2

“Just how smart you are. How brave. Strong.”

“Just don’t want to imprison you in my past.”

“Or be imprisoned.”

“I’m kind of used to it. I can’t even imagine living without my things. They’re like a mental security blanket.”

“Oh,” she said, concerned while thinking. “Maybe we can make a slow compromise out of them.”

He tossed her a smile. “Tell me, Dr. Rosie.”

She shot out a laugh. “You know like … half crooked, half straight. Half dirty?”

“Half dirty?” he shook his head. “Remember the other day at the Pepper Mill?” She glanced at him while painting. “You opened the door before I could and you thought it was about me wanting to be a gentleman, but it wasn’t.”

She paused and turned to him. “No?”

“No,” he assured. “You touched that filthy door handle with your bare hands. Then I had to fight myself, telling my mind that your hand wasn’t a dirty monster at the end of your arm wanting to eat my head off.”

She stood there with her mouth open. “Oh my God.”

He nodded, rolling paint on the wall. “And then you handled that menu like it wasn’t loaded with a million bacteria looking for a body to crawl into. Thank God you spilled the drink and had to go wash your hands. I wasn’t sure how I was going to manage the whole time appearing like I didn’t want to leave, drive straight home, and scrub you down with bleach and a toothbrush.”

“Oh God,” she said, feeling terrible. “I’m so sorry.”

“Welcome to my fucked-up mind.”

“You will most certainly have to tell me everything now. I could have helped with that.”

“You could have been normal and forced me to not panic. Which is what you did?”

“But I don’t want you to always have to fight that every time we go someplace,” she cried. “We can compromise at least.”

“Maybe just you knowing will help. That you’re aware.”

“Maybe,” she said, coming down the ladder and setting her brush in his pan. She took the roller from him and set it down too then wrapped her arms around his neck.

“You’re dirty,” he murmured.

She raised her brows and bit her lip, smiling. “I got an extra toothbrush,” she whispered. “When we’re done, you can take me and get me cleaned up.”

He lowered his mouth to hers and she pulled back a little. “You can kiss me?”

“It’s the one thing that makes me think there might be a god.”

She giggled as he kissed her softly. “Why?”

“Because I can kiss you. Anywhere. Anytime. Almost like …” he tilted his head, kissing her at different angles, “some glitch in the universe. A miracle. Just for me.”

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