Page 89 of Hate You, Maybe
My chest constricts. “We’ll figure something out,” I say. “Even if it takes a year or two. Gray Squirrels don’t quit.” Ireach out to catch the teardrop rolling down her cheek. “So this is good news, right? What you want more than anything?”
Sayla nods wordlessly.
“Good.” I give her a stern look. “So no crying, Sailor.”
“Hey!” She bats my hand away, then swipes at her nose. “No nicknames was the first rule of our cabin.”
“Retreat’s over.” I shrug. “We don’t have to pretend to cooperate anymore. So I’m afraid those rules on your clipboard are null and void.”
Her face breaks into a watery smile. “I didn’t agree to that addendum.”
“Nevertheless.” My lips quirk. “Get used to the nicknames, Kroft.”
She hoists a brow while simultaneously sniffling. “You can’t make me.”
“Ha! See? There’s the Sayla I know. Acting all contrary. Just the way I like you,” I add. “But don’t tell anyone.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.” Her lips tug into a fresh smile.
“Speaking of which, don’t tell Wilford you know about the grant.”
“But … why?” A crease forms on her forehead. “I want to thank him. Like I thanked you.”
“Not quite the same way, I hope,” I chuckle. “The thing is, the guy made such a big deal about this decision being his. He had us send him proposals. He even sent us on a retreat to get feedback to help him make the choice. So I’m not sure he’d want anyone to know I took away his options.”
“Hmm.” She sinks her teeth into her lip. “That makes sense, I guess.”
“Either way, he’s been planning to make the announcement after the SACSS visitation. And I’m sure he’ll want to deliver the good news to you personally. So me swooping inand telling you firstcouldlook like a jerk move. Especially since he doesn’t know we’ve gotten … close lately.”
“Oh, no. I don’t want him to be mad at you,” she says. “Keeping quiet for now is the least I can do after what you’ve done for me.”
“See?” I lift a hand to my chest. “There you go, being all nice and thinking about others.”
“Just don’t change your mind,” she says, with an expression of mock sternness.
“Don’t worry,” I say. “I’ve had enough mental whiplash for one week.”
“Good.” She slips into a grin. “Otherwise, we might have to revisit the I-Can’t-Stand-Dexter-Michaels side of me.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Reasons Why Dexter Michaels
is Kind of The Best:
a very brief brain dump
Allergy research.
Karaoke rescue.
