He shrugs again. “Maybe. I think we understand each other now.”
“Well, congratulations.” I mutter it under my breath, but I know he hears me. His face doesn’t change, and he doesn’t look away from the TV, but there’s a small shift in his posture.
I lean back against the couch, tipping my head back to rest against the back of it, and let out a long sigh.
“Knox thinks you’re having a crisis,” Priest offers neutrally.
I roll my eyes again, staring up at the ceiling. “Knox is dramatic as fuck. What am I, a teenage girl?”
“Well, if one of us was going to be…”
I elbow him in the side just because I feel like Ihaveto for that comment, although I can’t be all that mad. It’s rare for Priest to make jokes, and even when he does, they’re just as deadpan and blunt as everything else he says. But I like that he made one.
“I think…” I stop and sigh, scrubbing a hand over my face and adjusting my glasses. “I think you might’ve been right. About River. Letting her into our lives was a mistake. Keeping her in our lives is probably an even bigger one.”
If it were Knox or even Gage I was talking to, me admitting they were right—and effectively meaning I was wrong—would definitely be met with at least a little gloating. But Priest is just quiet. Thoughtful.
“Yeah. Maybe,” he says at last. “She’ll either wreck us, or…”
He trails off, not finishing the thought. I wait, assuming he’s searching for the right word, but when he doesn’t follow it up with anything, I frown and tilt my head to look over at him.
“Or what?”
He stares at the TV like he’s seeing past it, like he’s trying to get a glimpse at our future somehow. “I don’t know.”
