Page 48 of Wild Love
She scoffs and rolls her eyes, nudging my legs back with her own. “I don’t hate pink.”
I curve a teasing brow at her.
Her eyes flash up to the neon scrunchie in my hair. “I think it looks nice on you.”
“Thank you.”
“But you’re pretty. It makes sense.”
My head tilts as I regard her. We had a fun night. It was wholesome. We ate too much pizza. I did up root beer floats for us. We made fun of Ford behind his back and laughed. She even told me about school, where she’s found two other little storm clouds to roam with. And I love that for her.
What I don’t love is what she just told me.
“Anyonecan wear pink, Cora. And you? You aren’t just pretty, you’re beautiful. Inside and out. And that has nothing to do with the colors you wear”—I wave a hand over her— “or in your case, shades. You could wear pink if you wanted.”
Her eyes drop and her fingers fiddle with the blanket as the credits roll across the screen.
“Do you ever feel like you… like you… I don’t know. Just want to re-create yourself?”
God. Damn. Talk about an unknowing punch to the gut.
“You’re talking to the girl who freaked out and fled her life less than a week ago. So yeah, I know that feeling. I’ve done it successfully a few times.”
Cora nods, a question on her face as she rolls her lips together.
This time, I rub my foot against her leg to reassure her. “Hey, Cora.”
She lifts her eyes to look at me.
“Pink and black go great together. If you want to wear pink, do it. Ten out of ten you can pull it off. I mean,come on. You’ve got the genetics of the World’s Hottest Billionaire.”
At that, she huffs out a giggle, dropping her chin shyly.
“If anyone says anything, just scowl at them and say, ‘Do you even know who I am?’” Now she laughs.
“I’d milk the hell outta that title if I were you.”
“You could too, if you wanted.” Her eyes dance with amusement, and my gaze flicks back and forth between them.
“I don’t think I look young enough to convince people that Ford is my daddy.”
I broke every speed limit to get to you.
That fucking sentence has played on repeat in my head all day. I’ve thought about it countless times, to the point I’m not sure it holds any meaning anymore.
Except… the fact I’m obsessing over it does mean something.
But did it mean something coming fromhim? Or was it off the cuff? Was it even true, or was he fucking with me?
Right back down the rabbit hole I go.
“Are you going to go back to the city?” Cora’s question drags me out of my spiral.
“Sorry?”
“Are you going to move back?”
“Wow. Most people get to warm up with simple kid questions before they get hit with the hard-hitting ones.”
