Page 118 of Crazy In Love
“We were in second grade. Jerry White stole my brownie out of my lunch box. And it shouldn’t have been a big deal, but trust me when I tell you, I didn’t get treats in my lunch box often because my mom was highly against sweets, as she really didn’t like anything that brought joy to children.” She chuckled against my chest, and I wrapped her up a little tighter.
“I thought moms were supposed to be sweet?” I said. My voice had an edge to it because I didn’t like the way her mother treated her at all.
“Well, they aren’t all sweet, but I guess she did her best.” She sighed. “Anyway, he snatched my treat and took a big ole bite of it and smiled at me.”
A brief memory of this day flashed through my mind. It was the first time I’d been sent to the principal’s office, which turned into quite the regular pattern for me moving forward, so I barely remembered it.
“What did you do?”
“Well, if you recall, I was very small compared to the other kids, and Jerry was a big kid. So what could I do? I didn’t want to be a snitch. I remember trying hard not to cry, and then you came out of nowhere. You pushed him off the lunch table bench, and he fell on the ground. You told him if he ever messed with me again, you’d flush his head in the toilet in the boys’ bathroom.”
“Ahhh… I was charming even at a young age.”
“You got sent home from school that day,” she whispered.
“First of many, angel.”
“I think my crush started that day,” she said, pressing her lips to my chest, where my heart pounded beneath her kiss.
“Did Jerry ever mess with you again?” I asked, because I hated that little fucker.
“He never did.”
“Good. Then it was worth it.”
The room was dark, and we both grew quiet, lying there wrapped around one another.
“Happy birthday, lover boy.”
I smiled that she’d finally said it again.
“Thank you.”
“I hope you had a good one,” she whispered.
I realized in that moment it was the first time I could remember falling asleep on my birthday and not wishing the day didn’t exist.
And that was all because of her.
My angel.
thirty-two
. . .
Emilia
I blinked a couple of times,my arm slung over a hard chest as I processed where I was.
I was in Bridger Chadwick’s bed.
I’d slept in a hotel room bed with Bridger before, but I was at his home and in his bed.
It smelled like him.
Even the black silky sheets reminded me of him. Dark and moody, yet they were easy to lose yourself in.
I started to slide off him, but he tightened his grip.
