Page 148 of Wild Love
She rolls her eyes and laughs lightly. “You may want to spank me for this first, but after that… yes.” With a wink, she turns and swaggers into the office, looking so pleased with herself that I feel concerned. She leads me over the floorboards until we’re standing right over the blue paint disaster.
“So, it turns out the trophy and awards store is open on Sundays. I grabbed it while I was waiting for pizza. Which reminds me, we need to take Scotty a leftover piece.”
I’m about to complain about her attachment to the mouse when she points at the wall, and sure enough, there is an engraved gold plaque mounted right next to the floor.
It reads:
Wild Love
Paint on lumber
By Rosalie Belmont and Ford Grant
I stand staring at it for I don’t know how long. I like things orderly. I like them precise and tidy. I’m exacting, and I’m sure my sister would call me uptight and neurotic.
And yet, I’ve never loved a mess more.
I have no words, so I pull Rosie into a rough hug, breathing in the sugary scent of her hair, savoring the smooth skin of her neck against my lips.
She nuzzles into me, and I don’t know how long we stand like that, only that I eventually pull away, put my favorite Allah-Las album on the record player, and pull her down onto the deep leather couch.
We spend all evening wrapped up in each other, listeningto music, just like I’ve wanted to—since the morning after I first kissed her and found her sleeping here.
Just like I dreamed of before I even realized she was the dream.
EPILOGUE
ROSIE
“What are you humming?”Cora asks as I put fresh towels on the shelf in the first-floor bathroom.
My brows scrunch. “I don’t know.”
“Was that ‘Pumped Up Kicks’?”
I shrug. “Maybe? You and your dad are the ones with ears for music in this house.”
It’s been a month since the end of school. A month of us all living together.
It feels like playing house.
It feels too good to be true.
“You know that song is about a school shooting,” Cora deadpans, her black bangs dead straight across her forehead.
I stop. Sometimes she’s so abrupt and morbid that I need a second to catch up.
“Really?”
She nodssoberly.
“But it sounds so happy. I was humming it happily!”
“Shaking your ass too.”
I flush but refuse to be embarrassed.I’mthe one doing chores after dark.
“Did your dad teach you this?”
