Page 155 of Lovers Like Us
Her long lashes lift up to me. “You forgave your parents in a couple days,Moffy.”
“That’sdifferent.”
“Isit?”
“My parents are…” I lick my dry lips, trying to step on the right word. I think about how people see the Hales. Fragile, breakable, humans—a row of dominos that topple with one blow. But that row of dominos always uprightsagain.
Andagain.
Again.
Strong.
My parents are strong, I remember, but it’s a kind of strength that appears after raw vulnerability. Like a scar after awound.
I don’t like hurting them before they’re healed. “They don’t need me adding to their stress,” I end up saying. “Your parents eat and breathe loyalty. It’s okay to feelbetrayed.”
“I don’t anymore though,” she says and kicks a loose piece of gravel with her ballet flat. “I understand why they did what they did. They love me. We received the royal interrogation treatment that they’d give each other. It’s actually quite flattering in this oddway.”
I frown. “Then why aren’t you talking to yourmom?”
The wind whistles and wheat sways beside us. A cold chill snakes down my neck, and I zip up my gray jacket. Since we’re ahead of everyone, the landscape is fuckingcreepier.
Jane presses closer and hooks her arm with mine. “Like I said, I don’t know what tosay.”
“You could start withhi,” I suggest. “Your mom will probably fill in therest.”
“Next time she calls, I’ll pick up,” Jane says with a determined nod. “I will.” She smiles up at me. “Can you believe we got through a horrendous rumorunscathed?”
“Are we though?” Iask.
“Lightly scratched,” sheamends.
“Gentlyused.”
“We’re in the bargain bin now,” she agrees. And we bothsmile.
“This tour—it helped,right?”
“Most surely,” she says. “I don’t think I could’ve stayed in Philly, and the money you raised, Moffy…it’sincredible.”
“Weraised,” I correctJane.
Her big blue eyes say that I’m wrong and I’m the one who deserves the credit, but I’ve had too much help from too many fucking people to acceptit.
Loose pavement crunches beneath my Timberland boots. “What’s been the worst part?” Iask.
Jane doesn’t even hesitate. “The sexual frustration. It’s strong, and I can’t even commiserate withyou.”
I actually feel bad about that. “Why don’t you call your AWB? He can tag along for the last part of thetour.”
Shock arches her brows “Youwant Nate on thebus?”
I grimace. “Not really, but I also don’t want you to be sexuallyfrustrated.”
“And I don’t want nine guys grilling him,” she says into a sigh. “My options include me, myself, and my vibrator.” She brightens her phone light. “Nate and I have sexted some, so I’ve hadthat.”
I kick some gravel. “You could always ask your new bodyguard to help you out.” I start smiling. “I’m sure he wouldn’tmind.”
