Page 8 of A Kiss for Carter (The Laws of Love 3)

“You’re perfect Aves.”

She gave a loud snort.“I look like I’ve got a tiny chihuahua head on the body of a greyhound.”

“Oh Christ, Aves, where did you get that idea?”

“TikTok, there’s a reel that does all these dog amalgamations.I look just like theGreyhuahua Hound.”

“Total crap.”

“Don’t argue.Go and grab a pencil from my pencil case.”She pointed at her desk, still standing like she was waiting for the changing of the guard, except the frayed shorts and tiny crop top didn’t quite cut it.Carts sighed and grabbed the pencil.Was it better to humour her, or try and talk her out of what she was doing to herself?

Right now, just shutting his mouth was, he knew from past experience when Avery was winding up, his best choice.

“Get a ruler too.It’s got to be exact.”

Carts rolled his eyes.

Avery stared at him fiercely.“Do it.”

It struck him that it was little wonder Mum was pulling her hair out.

After several admonitions that he wasn’t holding the ruler exactly straight on top of her head, and he’d made another pencil mark right next to the last one, Avery stood back and peered at it suspiciously.“Write the date next to it.”

“It hasn’t changed since last time.”

“I reckon it might have gone up a teeny bit.”With pincered fingers she measured between the two marks.“I have, look.”She held up her fingers with a tiny gap between them and her face crumpled.

“Aves for god’s sake, they’re exactly the same.When did you last measure your height?”

“A week ago.I must NOT grow before Saturday,” she said through gritted teeth.“Like, I fucking-must-not.”She spun around and now she had her cute face happening, the one that was always guaranteed to melt his insides.“Please, Carts,” she wheedled, “can you get Mum to let me go to Zammy’s party?She’ll listen to you.”

Carts took her by the shoulders and sat her gently back down on the bed, where she blinked up at him with her hands sandwiched between her knees.His heart surged with the longing to put everything right.To take on the burden of being sixteen and not having grown into your body, of not having a clue who you were or where you were heading.Of all the awkwardness and sheer confusing misery of it all.

If it hadn’t been for his mate Aaron, would he have actually got through that time?

He shoved his hands into his pants pockets to try and look authoritative.“Is Zammy really your best friend?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Will she stand by you?Be there for you when everything turns to shit?Can you trust her to do that, Aves?”

Her eyes skittered away for a second, her knees squeezed her hands, then she said defiantly, “Yeah.She’d never ever do anything to hurt me.We’re like, you know, like sisters.We’ve done the blood thing.”

“The what?”

“You know, where you prick your finger and mix your blood together.”

Carts shuddered.

“And when we’re eighteen we’re going to get matching tattoos.Two bluebirds, one on her ankle, one on mine.”

“Over Mum’s dead body.”

“She can’t stop me.”

Carts sighed and gave up on that tack.“If I go into bat for you, you must promise to shut up about giving up the flute.”

“Okay.”

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