Page 49 of Nonverbal

As my hand wanders to her waist, her fist raps weakly on my chest, then a little harder. She finally turns her head, breaking the kiss, and reaches for her phone. Her expression is so devilish that I try to kiss her again. She pushes me away with a headshake.

Dammit. She’s right. I flop onto my back and sigh at the ceiling.

The next moment, she’s cuddled against my side again.

“Oh, is that right?”

She laughs softly and nods.

What am I getting myself into? Doesn’t matter. Paige is here beside me. I get to hold her. She’s safe. Amber is asleep, hopefully content in her dreams. Everything is right, and I only want this moment to last forever.

I kiss Paige softly, a gentle press of the lips, and then I turn off the light.

Chapter Eleven

Paige

“BRODY IS BEING TOO NICE to me,” Amber pouts from the bed. We’re in her room, a room that barely feels moved into. When I first saw it, I expected posters on the wall or boho macramé hangings. Fairy lights. Candles on shelves. Instagram stuff. But the room is mostly empty. Clothes spill out of her closet into piles all over the floor and there’s a disaster of a vanity in the corner. That’s it. Not even a bed frame for the mattress, which looks discarded on the floor, sagging in the middle.

“It’s weird when he’s this nice,” she continues. “I don’t like it. Creeps me out.”

I scratch my nose. My makeup is itchy and bothering my skin. To keep Amber in a good mood, I let her give me a complete makeover, including painting my fingernails and toenails. She also put me in a halter top and short shorts. I’m her living, breathing Barbie doll. I drew the line at henna because the goo has to be on your skin for eight hours, so she’s currently drawing a sloppy design on her own arm.

She squints an eye at me. Today is the day of the anniversary I wish I knew more about. So far, Amber seems normal, if slightly moody.

“You want to go out,” she states, voice empty of all peaks and valleys.

“Where?”

“A club. On a Tuesday. You want to go to a club on a Tuesday where there will be crowds of people and loud music.”

She draws a lopsided flower with the henna pen. “Some of them. But they’ll all be new places for you.”

She draws a sad face near her wrist. “I’m not sure I feel like going out. Is that okay? We can see what’s open this weekend.”

With a grin, she says, “It does.”

More makeup. I hate makeup, but she looks happy. I need to keep her happy right now, so she doesn’t think dark thoughts.

A frown tugs at her lips. “You’re being suspicious, too.”

I hug her so she can’t linger on that thought. To convince her to stay here all week, I played the Troy card and told her I needed emotional support. I feel a little guilty for deceiving Amber—I could care less about Troy—but it was for a good reason. Hopefully not a secret that will make her stop trusting me.

Brody has been home, too. He lied and said there was a scheduling error at work and that he doesn’t have any clients until next week. She suspects his ulterior motives more than she does mine.

The week has been good. She helped me pick up items I won from an online estate auction, and we found a new thrift store. We visited three times, twice so I could get comfortable with the layout and once more so I could actually shop. We found a really cool Lego set from the nineties that someone bought the same day I listed it. That was an easy sixty bucks. Besides that, I’ve been letting her dress me up and we’ve been watching movies with Brody and lounging around. I also made dinners—her favorite foods—thanks to Brody’s grocery shopping.

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