“Do you hear me?” Chase asked, pinning me with a determined look. “You are not his.”
Here it comes—the Neanderthal side. I kind of liked it, though. “I’m not planning on doing anything stupid, so you can just simmer down.”
“Angel,” he warned. “Let’s get more specific. You are not going to do anything period. Not today. Not tomorrow. I will figure this out.”
I rolled my eyes. “And what if you don’t? What then? I am just supposed to sit aside and watch the bodies fall around me? I can’t. I won’t.”
He sat down on the side of the bed, bringing our gaze level. “That’s not what I am asking. I just need more time.”
My arms wrapped around my belly. “I’m scared.”
“Finally,” he exhaled. “You’ve come to your senses.”
I socked him in the arm. “This is serious. That dream was no joke. He made it pretty clear that he wants me, and if he doesn’t get what he wants, other people will pay the price.”
“I’m working on a theory,” he said.
This was news to me. “You are?” I asked suspiciously. Apparently we were both working our own angles.
He brushed back my hair. “There is no way I am letting him take what’s mine. Not without one explosive fight.” His voice got deceptively deep.
We both cared too deeply and too recklessly about the other. Our relationship was so unhealthy, but I knew that I could not function every day without him. “I don’t want anything to happen to you either,” I said, twining our fingers together. Our hands sparked on contact. “You’re not immortal.”
He heaved a giant sigh. “I’m damn close.”
Ego much?
I wanted to argue, but the set in his jaw told me I wasn’t going to make any headway. He was hardly reasonable when he was jived up and ready for a fight. Actually, he was rarely ever reasonable.
“Now get some sleep.” Then he kissed the tip of my nose.
“I don’t want to sleep,” I debated, pulling back the covers. “Can we stay up and talk instead?”
He climbed under the covers, facing me. “Whatever you want, love.”
“Ugh. Don’t ever call me that.”
***
Saturday—the day I got my country swag on.
Twenty pairs of jeans later, I stared at my floor and thought that this might be a really good time for the cleaning fairy to show up, especially before Mom awoke. What did one wear to a country concert when one didn’t own cowboy boots or a cowboy hat?
Well this girl was going to wear jeans and a cardigan. I lined my eyes with thin black eyeliner and gooped on a heap of mascara. Staring at my reflection, I figured this was as good as it was going to get. If I had to put any more thought into the way I looked, my head was going to combust.
OMG. Is that a pimple?
Great. This night just kept getting better. Dabbing on some cover-up, I cursed my luck. There was nothing else I could do, so I walked next door to see Lexi. She might not be happy to see me, but I was ecstatic, and she needed to get the heck out of the house. I didn’t want my friend to become a hermit. Plus, what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t take her to see her favorite country star?
I took one look at her tucked away in bed, rocking the world’s wackiest hair, and knew that she needed a friend-ter-vention. It was my God-given duty as her best friend to help her resume life with the living.
First order of business—let in some natural light. There were pink dust bunnies collecting in the corners. Pushing aside her girlish curtains, a stream of sunlight streaked across the floor. With purposeful strides, I walked to her bed and whipped back the covers.
Lexi groaned. Even the way she grumbled in the morning was feminine and cute.
“You look like one of those trolls I used to collect with the freaky colored hair,” I said staring down at her.
She rolled to her side. “I hate you. Go away.”
I sat at the corner of the bed. “Yeah, that’s not going to work on me. I know how close love and hate run.”
“I’m not going to school.”
I smirked. “Neither am I, considering it’s Saturday.”
She plopped a pillow over her head. “Go climb in bed with Chase. I am sure he would appreciate the company,” she mumbled through the pillow.
I pursed my lips. “Hmm, that idea does have merit. Just one problem…he already left.”
Turquoise eyes peaked out from under the pillow. “What time is it?”
“One.”
She shoved her mad scientist hair out of her face. “In the morning? Are you insane?” she shrieked.
I rolled my eyes. “Would the sun be shinning at one in the morning? I think not. Now get your curvy butt out of bed,” I demanded, tugging on her arm.
She sat on the edge of the mattress, glaring. “I don’t remember you being so pushy.”