Page 34 of The Revenge Plan (Forbidden Descendants 1)

His lips twitched to the right. “Honey,” he said and held up his phone to show me he was on the very level I spoke of. “The yellowish orange stuff is honey, and I’m having no luck getting past it either.”

“That’s right. It was honey.” I scowled at his screen. “God, I hated that honey.” And typically I loved honey. Weird.

“Yeah,” he agreed, only to sigh and shut his phone off before tossing it onto a side table. Yawning once more, he rubbed a hand over his face and then stretched his long legs out in front of him.

My gaze ran over him, taking in his sneakers, worn jeans, and a snug black T-shirt. Before tonight, I’d only ever thought bitter, negative things about him whenever I saw him out and about, mostly in loyalty to Topher’s feelings and because of what Topher had told me Wick had called me.

But now that I’d finally taken off my condemnatory glasses, he looked different. His movements didn’t seem as cocky as I’d always found them to be, but more…driven maybe, as if he were focused and determined to get where he was going. And his perpetually hard expression didn’t seem as judgmental as it had before, but more contemplative and thoughtful, like he was being wary and guarded in order to protect himself instead of to condemn others. It all made him even more attractive than he’d already been.

Ashamed of assessing him the way I always had, I cleared my throat and murmured, “Hey.”

He dropped his hands and focused on me, his super pale eyes probing and alert, even though he looked dog-tired.

“Thank you,” I said. “For everything you did tonight. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you…and Izzy. I, uh, I really appreciate it.”

Nodding, he remained silent.

The silence kind of bothered me. It allowed my brain to wander, and when my brain wandered, it started to think about earlier, or what was going to happen next, which was the last thing I wanted to think about.

When my throat started to hurt and the hint of tears stung my eyes, I swallowed before clutching the edge of the couch under me.

“I dropped my groceries,” I blurted.

Wick’s eyebrows pinched together. “What?”

“I was out getting groceries,” I said. “Tonight. I had two sacks full. I had to juggle one on my hip to get the door to my apartment open, and then…when I did, I saw them there. And I dropped both bags.” Shaking my head, I frowned. “My groceries were gone when Dad and I went back to get my things. I didn’t think to look for them until just now.” Glancing at Wick, I said, “I think that bitch took my groceries.”

At first, Wick didn’t act as if he was going to respond. Then he licked his lips and asked, “She take anything good?”

“Of course,” I hissed. “I had a whole family-sized box full of snack packs in there. The chocolate and vanilla swirl pudding cups, you know.”

He nodded, letting me know he knew.

“And a loaf of my favorite honey wheat bread. And some chunky peanut butter, then some grape jelly in one of those nice squeeze bottles. And I had a box of club crackers and a package of pre-sliced cheddar cheese. And, oh damn.” I pressed my hand to my heart. “I forgot. A whole bag full of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. She took my peanut butter cups.”

That whore!

Fuck sleeping with my boyfriend; what kind of heartles

s monster took your unopened chocolate stash?

“That’s pretty bad,” Wick agreed quietly.

Hell yes, it was.

I turned my attention to him and nodded, only to blurt, “How do you eat your Reese’s cups?”

Brow furrowing with confusion, he blinked. “What?”

“I’m sorry.” Closing my eyes, I pressed a hand to my forehead. “I know I’m rambling and making no sense. My mind; it just can’t seem to settle down. It keeps jumping around like a frog leaping from one lily pad to the next, and I can’t concentrate no matter how hard I try. What’s worse, it feels like I’m going to cry every time I stop talking, so it’s almost as if I’m forced to spill out all these sporadic thoughts that keep skipping through my brain to avoid going crazy, meaning…just be prepared for me to pop around from one unexpected, crazy question or observation to the next, okay?”

He nodded gravely. “Okay.” Then he furrowed his brow, quietly cleared his throat, and said, “I eat all the chocolate around the edges first, then the center peanut butter part.”

I released a heavy breath, relieved he was willing to have any crazy, random conversation I came up with.

Nodding, I answered, “Cool. I eat the peanut butter center first.”

Tipping his head to the side, he frowned. “So, you… Wait, what? You break off the outside chocolate ridge and set it aside?”

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