Page 407 of Dark Love

“I… um… told you that I have a purse addiction.”

A quirky one at that. The purse in front of me is fully beaded in the shape of a flamingo. “Where did you plan to wear that one?”

“On the beach. But it’s not for me. My mom is going with my dad in a couple of weeks, and I knew she’d love it. My addiction to purses is almost as bad as my mom’s.” Dahlia scoots closer.

“Any other incriminating evidence on here?” I joke even as I swipe to the next open tab which is another purse.

“Maybe.” Her cheeks go pink. “That one matches a coat I’m planning to get this winter.” Her cheeks could compete with a fire engine for the brightest red.

What’s so embarrassing about a coat—That’s the exact same color as the one she used of mine. It still smells sugary sweet like her.

She plucks the tablet out of my fingers before I can snoop anymore and sets it in the nightstand drawer next to her. On top of a pile of cosmetic tools.

Why does she have beer in the fridge if she’s buying a coat that reminds her of me?

Now isn’t the time to ask, even if I’m dying to know.

“What do you want to watch?” I hold up the remote to establish dominance.

Her brow wrinkles as she stares at it hard. “Normally when I’m sick, I watch Anne of Green Gables or Pride and Prejudice, but I doubt you would enjoy either of those.”

“Pride and Prejudice sounds good.” We aren’t to the point that I will admit to enjoying Jane Austen’s books, but I can let her think I’m being kind. But this is actually a test.

The version of Pride and Prejudice she picks says a lot about her.

“Are you sure you don’t mind? It’s just that I know every word, so if I fall asleep, I won’t feel lost when I wake up.”

“Not at all.” But if you fall asleep, you’re waking up in my arms regardless of where you start out. I’m not enduring this much torment without that small reward.

“I prefer the longer version. It’s listed on my favorites.”

In no time, the movie is playing. I’ve strategically placed the candy and popcorn on my legs so that she needs to move closer to me. Dahlia almost immediately scoots over until she’s close enough for me to wrap an arm around her.

That will come later, though.

“This popcorn is amazing.” Dahlia grabs a handful.

“That’s because there’s real butter on it. Not the chemicals that you’re used to.”

“Heath nut.” She grins as she shoves them in her mouth.

I’m not quite that militant. This is my chance. “You have some good taste in beer.” I tip the bottle to my lips and contemplate ways to kill the man she bought it for.

“It’s my dad’s favorite.”

Her dad’s… The hate burning in my throat fades away. “He has good taste.”

“That’s what everyone says. I order it from a small brewery near where they live.” She yawns.

Now’s the time to make my move. I stretch my arms out and feign a yawn. My left arm settles down lightly on her shoulder instead of by my side.

One…

Two…

She cuddles in close without my assistance.

The only thing stopping today from being perfect is the pain that keeps her from fully relaxing against me.

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