Page 59 of Crash and Burn
“She’s great.” He beamed as he tapped on his phone, using his banking app. “She’s getting As in all her classes except biology.”
“I thought she was great at science?” I asked.
“She is, but she refuses to dissect the baby pig.”
I blanched. “Ew. What?”
“Part of her grade depends on her dissecting a pig fetus. She refused. In fact, she started a movement in her school to remove it from the curriculum.” Grant shook his head fondly. “That girl always stands up for what she believes in.”
“I don’t remember having to do that in school,” I said. “Unless it was so traumatizing I blocked it out.”
“When I was in school it was a frog,” Grant said. “I made my lab partner do it. I know the thing was already dead, but I still felt bad for it.”
“You’re an animal lover at heart,” I said. “After all, you enjoy spending time with Mittens when she’s evil incarnate.”
“She is cute,” Grant said. “But mostly I just wanted an excuse to spend more time with you.”
I wrapped my arms around Grant’s neck.
“So you used Mittens?” I made a tsk tsk sound. “How’s she going to feel when she hears about that?”
“I think she’ll be fine,” Grant said. “After all, since everyone else noticed the sexual tension between us, I doubt it escaped her attention, too.”
I groaned and let my head fall forward onto Grant’s chest.
“I can’t believe everyone knew,” I said. “Everyone.”
“I guess we weren’t being subtle about it,” Grant said.
“You were subtle enough that I could never be sure whether I was seeing things or not.” I peeked up at Grant through my lashes. “Sometimes I’d see you out of the corner of my eyes and wonder if you were staring at me.”
“I probably was,” he said. “I did it all the time.”
“I can’t believe it took us this long,” I said.
“What’s important is that we’re finally together,” Grant said.
“Thank god for that photoshoot,” I said.
“Thank god for that pillow fight.”
“You know, we never actually decided on a winner,” I said slyly, inching over toward the sofa. “We both just decided to call a time out.”
“Oh no you don’t—”
Before Grant could say anything else, I yanked a pillow from the sofa and smacked him in the face.
He sputtered, then growled as he caught the pillow. “A sneak attack, huh? That’s not very sporting of you.”
“All’s fair in love and war,” I taunted.
Then I realized what I’d said and froze. I hadn’t meant to say the L word. Not yet.
Whack.
A pillow hit me full in the face and I heard Grant laughing. I relaxed. It seemed like he hadn’t read anything into it, at least.
There were only two decorative pillows in the living room and we each had one in our hands.
