Page 71 of Loved By The Bad Boy

“Not so sad,” I tell her.

“Me too,” she says. She circles a spot in the space between us, refusing to meet my gaze. A ghost of a smile flies across my lips. So cute. She bridges half the gap and palms my knees. “When you are sad, I’m sad too. I don’t want you to forget that you have me, and I’m always here for you.”

“Okay.”

Her eyes narrow. I don’t think I gave the correct answer, but it’s the only reply I can muster.

“When you’re sad, I’m sad,” Gracie repeats in case I didn’t hear that the first time. I did, but I’m still processing everything. I cover the rest of the distance and wrap her in a tight hug. I don’t want her to be sad. Life is already sad. “When you’re happy, I’m happy. I want you to be happy, Benny. Even if it doesn’t feel like it right now, everything will be okay. I will always love you.”

“I’ll always love you too, babe.” I force the negative thoughts into my mind’s archive. The past few days have seen my mood go from bad to worse, but we are okay. I must be okay for her, for Mom, Josef, and Asher. It’s not about me alone, it’s about us. “Where did you go? I missed you.”

“I went to get ice-cream, and I missed you too,” she replies. Laughter catches in my throat. She chuckles, and I tickle her. Ice-cream is her jam when she’s in a mood. For me, her presence is enough. I pinch her cheeks. “I bought fries for both of us, but you can still have some of mine.”

Fries work too. It was the only thing Dad could make successfully without asking Mom’s help. The fries taste better when I’m stealing from her plate. I kiss her to interrupt her speech on fries. She’s rambling. She pulls back to flick a finger over my nose, then resumes the kiss. Grinning, she brings the tray and arranges the snacks on it. I pick up the bowl of ice-cream and open it.

“Guess where I was? Benny, guess.” I don’t want to think too much about it, so I shrug. Her lips part to scold me, but I push a spoonful of ice-cream into her mouth. A content moan escapes her. “I was at Broadway Heights. Our former school,” she adds this part with a smile. “I saw Olivia.”

My hand drops, and some of the ice-cream splatters to the bed. Gracie wipes the stain in a beat and returns the spoon to me. I scan her face for any sign of discomfort or hidden irritation, but she’s cool. Almost too cool about their encounter. She hates Olivia. Though she never mentions her during a conversation, I sense her annoyance whenever the subject of Olivia comes up.

“Nice,” I say out of habit.

“Yeah. We kind of talked. She’s not so bad.”

“I told you.” She laughs, parting her lips for more ice-cream. I don’t mention the fact that she’s taking all my ice-cream. I don’t mind. “What did you two talk about? You approached her?”

Their interactions haven’t been the best since the fight. It’s almost inexistent. Olivia never talks about Gracie in our chats, and I’m fine with that. Her shoulders rotate carelessly. I toss the cup of ice-cream and open the bowl of ketchup for my fries. There are chicken wings too. My favorites.

“No, I didn’t. It just happened. We talked about stuff. Olivia didn’t post the video.” It’s not news to me. Gracie looks contrite. I kiss her cheek and take a big bite of my chicken. I’m famished, and I don’t care about the video anymore. It was taken down. “Sorry I didn’t believe you, babe.”

“It’s okay. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Joining me to eat, she feeds me at intervals. “What did you do in my absence?”

Her absence. I don’t like those words. I tell her about the talk with Josef and Tessa’s bail denial. She squeaks, more excited than I was. We talk between bites. Her eyes shine brightly with each word, infusing some confidence back into my bloodstream. Soon, we are left with empty packs.

Gracie yawns and leans on the headboard while rubbing her hand over her belly. It never grows no matter how much she eats. She would fit with a model agency. Her vogue photoshoot proved it. We should talk about that. I know she didn’t win, but there has been no chance to bring it up.

“I think I’m tired.”

“I think so, too,” I reply, shooting up to my feet to dispose of the wraps. On my return, she is holding a pillow to her chest. I pry it from her grasp, and she groans. “Do you want to cuddle?”

She nods. “Yeah.”

“Skin to skin or clothes?”

My fingers hook under the waistband of my sweatpants. I know Gracie’s answer already, but I still want to hear it. Her shirt comes off. Her bra is next. She winks and gets completely naked.

“Skin to skin,” she whispers.

Thirty

Today is Sunday.Mom is calling. I should be on my way back home or planning toward it, but none of that is happening. We haven’t fixed a date for the trial. Josef is doing everything he can, greasing palms and offering money where it can help. In all of these, Ben needs my presence.

The continuous ringtone intensifies my guilt, but I don’t reach for the phone. I bite my nails and clench my eyes shut, but the ringing doesn’t stop. Pacing doesn’t help. Ben is somewhere in the house, so he isn’t here to witness me practice for the lie. If I pick up, it will lead to an argument.

My phone stops ringing and starts immediately. Dad. I drag a seat to the window and push it open. The outside view is beautiful. It calms me. Maybe that’s why I hit the answer button.

“Where are you?” is Dad’s first question. In my silence, he says, “Tessa, where are you?”

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