Page 89 of The Revenge Plan (Forbidden Descendants 1)

As planned, my comment pulled another laugh from her. Then she sighed.

“Wow.” She shook her head slowly back and forth. “It’s incredible, but I think absolutely everything Topher ever said to me about you was wrong. Completely and totally wrong.”

I snarled bitterly, “And you’re surprised by that…why? Especially after everything you’ve learned about him lately?”

“I…” She thought it through another moment, then nodded. “Actually, yes. Because what was the point? He never told me so much bullshit about anyone else. Just you. Why was he so determined to make you—and, say, not some other teammate—out to be that bad of a guy?”

Strangely unsettled by her perceptive question, I could only shake my head, not sure how to answer. “I… I don’t know,” I croaked. “Probably because he hates me.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t like that friend of yours either. J.J. McCannon, or whatever his name is.”

“Cannon?”

“Is that what you call him?”

I nodded. “Yeah. He kind of hates the name J.J. And Jamaal. Only social workers and sportscasters—people he claims never knew a thing about him—have ever called him that, so I made sure to refer to him as McCannon when I first got to know him, until Izzy met him and botched his name, forgetting the M C at the beginning. Ever since then, he’s just been Cannon.”

“Well, whatever his name is,” Haven went on. “Topher never spread such awful lies about him.”

“Maybe he did, and you just don’t know it yet.”

“Maybe,” she murmured, though her tone said she didn’t really agree. Then she sniffed and wiped the back of her hand across the bottom of her nose. “I guess it doesn’t matter, anyway. I’m just… I’m sorry I tried to use you tonight, and I’m sorry I believed all the awful things he ever said about you. I think I’ll go back to my room now.”

She started to scoot toward the edge of the bed, but I surged forward, lifting a hand. “Wait. Wait. Just…wait.”

She paused. “Why?”

“Because…” I shook my head. “No one’s allowed to leave my bed in tears.”

“But I’m not—” Cutting herself off with a watery laugh, she shook her head and asked, “How could you tell?”

“The sniffing and wiping your nose kind of gave it away.”

“Oh. Well, don’t worry. I’m not crying because of anything you did. You’ve been really awesome and understanding, actually. Thank you for that, but I… I’m going to go, anyway.”

“No.” I caught her arm. “You’re not. I don’t give a rat’s ass what caused it. If you think I’m the type of person who can just placidly sit here and do nothing while I know you’re off in your own room, crying yourself to sleep, you got another thing coming. You’re not leaving here in tears. End of story.”

“But…” With a disbelieving laugh, she shot back, “You can’t force me to stay.”

She was right; I’d just made a huge deal about how women shouldn’t be forced in any capacity, even with guilt trips. With a disgusted breath, because she’d figured me out so clearly, I said, “Okay, yeah. I can’t force you to stay, but maybe I can entice you to.”

Her head tipped to the side as if intrigued. “Entice me? How?”

Shit, now I had to come up with something alluring to get her to stay until she stoppe

d crying. Except my head was only coming up with ideas that would tempt me.

“I…” Drowning, I lamely answered, “I don’t know. We could talk…or stay up late and watch Night Court.”

“What’s Night Court?”

Realizing what I’d just said, I chuckled lightly. “Honestly, I’m not totally sure. I think it’s an old TV show. ‘We’ll stay up late and watch Night Court’ is something my mom always says. I guess when she was younger, her mom—my grandma—would work night shifts, and my mom would wait up for her by watching that show. Even though we never actually watched anything together whenever she said it, it sort of became our family’s catchphrase.”

“And you’ve never seen the show before?”

Haven sounded intrigued by the idea. I smiled, charmed by her curiosity, and admitted, “Nope. Never.”

“Well, that’s just not right. You need to watch it. Right now,” she said decisively. “Where’s your laptop?”

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