Page 82 of Toxic Salvation
VESPER
Life is definitely no fairytale.
You know how I know?
Because ideally, what should have followed my little confession is a long, passionate kiss. Or maybe even a reciprocal declaration of his own. Hell, I’d have even settled for a smile.
Instead, I get precisely two seconds under the full power of Kovan’s stare before Luka runs up to us, melting ice cream cone in hand, trips on his own feet, and sends said melting ice cream cone flying through the air toward me.
Luka falls face-first onto the grass. I get a face full of melting peanut butter ice cream.
Fairy tale, this is not.
“Oops! Sorry, Vesper,” Luka winces as he gets to his feet, grass stains on his knees.
Kovan gives me the once-over, biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing as he passes me a tissue. “I think that’s our cue to go home.”
I spend the whole drive home feeling sticky and uncomfortable while the boys laugh about how I looked when the ice cream hit my face. Peanut butter drips down my shirt collar and into places I don’t want to think about.
“Cheer up, V,” Waylen teases from the passenger seat. “If you’re gonna be attacked by something, peanut butter ice cream kinda takes the sting out of it, huh?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I should shove your face into a big vat of peanut butter ice cream and you can tell me. How’s that sound?”
Luka perks up from the backseat. “Can we try that? Please?”
“No!” Waylen and Kovan say simultaneously.
“Aw, man!” Luka pouts, crossing his arms. “You guys never let me do anything fun.”
The moment we get back home, the boys scatter to their respective corners and I head straight to my bedroom to wash the peanut butter disaster off me. My hair feels matted, my clothes are ruined, and I smell like a candy shop exploded.
It’s not until I’m standing in the shower, with warm, sudsy water running down my back, that I start panicking about what happened at the park. Not the ice cream incident—the other thing. The part where I basically confessed my feelings for Kovan when all he’d ever said he wanted was to co-parent.
Maybe he doesn’t want a relationship with me at all. Why would he, when he can have someone uncomplicated? Someone whose father didn’t work closely with his to dupe an entire city out oftheir healthy organs? Someone who doesn’t come with a family history of murder and betrayal?
“I’m an idiot,” I mutter to myself as I wash off the soap and stickiness. “What did I do? What the hell did I just do?”
I scrub harder, trying to wash away more than just ice cream residue.
When I’m done, I wrap my towel around my chest, comb out my hair, and stare at myself in the mirror. How do I walk back what I said to Kovan in the park? Maybe I can just pretend nothing happened. If he follows suit, I’ll know exactly where I stand.
My stomach churns as I step back into my room. I’m looking forward to face-planting into my bed and not getting up for several hours. But when I exit the bathroom, I realize I have a visitor.
Kovan is still wearing the same black slacks and white t-shirt from the park. And why not? He didn’t have ice cream running down his chest.
But his presence makes me extremely conscious that I’m standing here in a towel and nothing else.
“I thought we could talk,” he explains, closing the bedroom door behind him.
“Now?” I squeak.
“No time like the present.” He gives me a smile that makes my skin heat up instantly.
“Okay… Erm… will you give me a few minutes? I just need to go put something—” I break off as he walks right up to me,his fingers curling around a stray lock of hair twisting over my shoulder.
“Why?” he murmurs. “You look perfect to me like this.”
I make sure my towel is securely fastened under my armpits and sit down at the edge of my bed. Kovan sits beside me, but far enough away that I can’t tell where this conversation is headed.
