Page 78 of Dead Set on You
I can imagine it clearly, and I can’t think of anything more fitting than being surrounded by loved ones. Like Gemma and Cristina. But if it comes to it, I don’t know if I’d want them there with me at the very end. I remember what it was like to say goodbye to Annie. The ache that follows feels old, yet still sharp.
“That’s how I’d do it because I’m completely lazy, and I can’t be bothered to do more than the bare minimum,” he adds, stretching his arms. “But you—you’re doing the right things. In no time, we’re going to figure this out so you can get to your planner and that list of things in the back.”
I blink, shocked. “You snooped in my planner?”
“You tricked me into giving up doughnuts for amonth.”
Oh God.I don’t know which is worse—him going through my planner or him thinking the two are remotely on equal playing fields. I laugh, surprising Rafael. Surprising myself. “You’re …” I begin.
“Dashing?”
“Dastardly.”
“I take it that means charming.”
“If you’re the devil.”
“Which you’ve established when you insinuated you were in hell.”
“Well, this most certainly isn’t heaven,” I quip. Secrets would be sacred in heaven, as would hopes and dreams and several items on my bucket list. That he’s seen.Visit Skopelos, Greece. Sleep under the stars.Or #44,Join the mile-high club(one of two items added by Gemma).
And he’s seen them all. I groan into my palms, thinking of him leafing through my planner, reading through the last five pages of items.
“I’ve seen it already, and there’s no reason to work yourself up over it,” Rafael says. “There’s some good stuff in there. Get a tattoo? Volunteer at a theater? Date someone for longer than one year? You’ve covered lots of bases.”
“I’m going to kill you,” I growl, low in my throat.
He chews, swallows, then picks up a chicken wing and dips it into a container of ranch. “Speaking of which, how longhasyour longest relationship been?”
“Not sure how that’s any of your business,” I huff, pacing the floor of my dining room while he takes a bite of his wing. I hope he doesn’t choke on a bone. “And it’s off-topic.”
“You asked me ‘What would Rafael do?’ And what I would do is answer this question.” His eyes gleam with mischief, and it makes me wish I’d never had such an idiotic idea.
Note to self:WWRDworks only in my head.
“How about this: You show me yours and I show you mine?” He waggles his dark brows, lips curled in a sly smile.
I level him with a look. “What—are we in high school?”
Rafael leans forward, his elbows braced on the marble countertop. “Is Evie Pope backing down from a challenge?” he goads, demonstrating what happens when someone has intimate knowledge of what makes you tick and goboom.
I shouldn’t play along, but part of me is curious and the other part is comatose. Also,WWRD?
“Six months,” I say, my words clipped.
Rafael’s eyes bulge. “Who? Chip?”
My jaw literally drops. “You know about Chip?”
He nods. “And Theo … and the athlete …” With each name, my mouth gapes, but Rafael? He’s in his zone. “Gotta love open-concept office space. And what kind of name is Chip?”
I’ve questioned it myself, but he doesn’t need to know.
I lean forward, brow arched. “All right then, Raffy Taffy, what about you? How long were you a one-woman man? Two days? A week?”
He presses a hand to his chest. “Shit. Do you really think I’m a playboy or something?” He pretend-pouts, then holds up three fingers.
“Three hours?” I ask.
