Page 49 of Crazy In Love (Love & War #2)

“I like olives,” she snickers, poking at them.

Just like one would when avoiding eating something they don’t like.

“I’m not horrified by the meal you’ve prepared, Christian.

I’m horrified that nowhere else in town offers anything like it, so if I were to live here, I’d have to rely on irritating you into cooking for me. ”

She so easily scars my heart, slashing at it with a newly sharpened knife.

Worse, she’s clueless to the fact it’s her hand that wields the blade.

“I wouldn’t mind cooking for you.” I set my silverware down. I can’t fit a single bite when my stomach is so full of dread. “Anytime you wanted it.”

“You’re just saying that because we’re getting along right now.

” She flashes a bright, beautiful, oblivious smile.

“But eventually, the magic of sex will wear off, and when it does, we’ll go right back to who we are beneath the orgasms; annoying and petty.

” She slices into her chicken and brings a chunk up to her lips. “What about you?”

“What about me what?” Still no olives. And fuck, the entire dish tastes of olives. I ruined everything ! “What do you wanna know?”

“Would you ever move away from Plainview?”

My heart flips at the very thought. “Doubt it.”

So fucking quick to answer. So sure. I destroy us before I even give us a chance to breathe.

“Oh?” She opens her mouth and places the olive-flavored trash on her tongue. “You wouldn’t even consider it?”

“And go where? My entire life is wrapped up in the gym. Tommy and Alana and the kids. My house.” I settle back and gesture toward the starry ceiling. “I’ve only ever known Plainview. Not sure I’d even know how to live somewhere else.”

“New York is an amazing city.” She chews, careful not to show the food in her mouth.

“It’s so large and magical. The people can be really nice, and butting up against such diversity is like living multiple lives all at once.

I wouldn’t be the same Fox you know if I never experienced the things I have. ”

Pausing, she takes a moment somewhere in the depths of her mind she chooses not to share with me.

Fuck. Why won’t she share it with me?

Shaking her thoughts away, she brings her eyes back up and smirks. “Who knows, maybe you wouldn’t be the way you are if you’d been raised somewhere other than here.”

“The way I am?” Thirsty, I snatch the bottle of wine I set out earlier, crack the seal, and pour it into her glass. But the thought of fruity alcohol makes my stomach turn, so I set it down again and choose water instead. “You don’t think I should be who I am?”

“No, I mean… look at Franky, right?” She trades her fork for wine, bringing the glass to her smiling lips.

God, it’s the olives. She hates them. “You and Franky have a lot in common. But the fact he spent his first ten years in New York means he has a different perspective on the world than you do. He still has his quirks, his favorite fork—” Teasing, she casts her eyes to the diamond patterns set out on each side of our plates, “—he still prefers his own company over large gatherings, and he’s quick to call someone out if he thinks they’re being unfair or not entirely truthful.

But he also appreciates and celebrates people who are different than he is. ”

Fuck my dinner, I sip my water and settle back in my chair. “Different?”

“Well, he, himself, is different from his peers. And he’s drawn to you—even over Tommy, despite his relationship with Alana—because he recognizes how you’re different from yours.

Raised in a city where no one is the same, he spent his most formative years being accepted for exactly who he is, and he accepted others for their differences without question.

His friend group included children with varying shades of skin.

Girls. Kids with glasses or braces or a walking frame.

One of his closest friends was a little girl with cerebral palsy, and not once in all the time I can recall did he wonder if she was less than, or if she should be mocked.

And yet…” She sets her wine glass down and meets my eyes.

“ I’m stared at in Plainview like I came from Barnham’s circus of freaks.

On the outside, I look exactly like most others around here: I have the ‘right’ skin color, the ‘right’ weight range.

I don’t walk differently, and nothing odd grows from my face.

At first glance, I fit . But the fact is, I wasn’t born or raised here.

My people don’t come from here. And God forbid I not be sorry for it. ”

She picks up her fork, scoffing. “If I was a less secure woman, I probably would’ve cried myself to sleep on the first night and started counting down the seconds until I can escape again.”

“You’re not counting down to escape?” A sliver of hope. A tiny speck of potential sparks somewhere in the back of my heart. “Despite them, you’re happy to be here?”

“Sure. Their opinions don’t actually matter to me.

Not when I know I’m here for Alana and Franky and the baby.

My reward is seeing my family, helping them with the store while they need that help.

I don’t care for the opinions of people I don’t care about, and knowing I’ll leave again soon helps me keep my shoulders back and my chin up.

Visiting Plainview is fine. Living in Plainview would likely end with me behind bars.

Something about aggravated assault and public nuisance. ”

And there goes my hope, dashed as quickly as it came.

I draw a long breath, silencing my inhale so she doesn’t see how easily destroyed I am. Then I paste on a fake smile, because I’ll be damned if I ruin our night.

More than that, I refuse to ruin our last two weeks together.

“If I visited New York sometimes, would you take me out to dinner and show me your bedroom for dessert?”

She coughs out a soft, amused laugh. “Probably. I did mention the magic of sex, didn’t I?”

“You did.” I bring my water up to my lips.

“What if you’re dating someone else by then?

” Shut the fuck up, Chris! She asked for casual.

She asked for six weeks and secrecy . “How do you explain to your future boyfriend that you need the weekend off because this other dude from Plainview was dropping by?”

“A weekend off?” she snorts. “A hall pass, where loyalty is placed on pause? Hmm…” her lips twitch with humor. “Not sure that’ll work out.”

“Afraid he’ll get mad?”

“If I were afraid of him, then he would no longer be my boyfriend, would he?” She brings beautiful brown eyes up to mine.

“I prefer relationships built on trust and respect. Male or female, work or any other. If there’s no trust, and if there’s no respect, then I move right along. Life is too short for anything else.”

“Also, pettiness and bickering.”

Confused, she frowns.

So I add, “Us. We’re built on pettiness and bickering, no? That’s how it appears from where I’m sitting.”

Finally, she cracks and snickers, settling back into her chair. “I respect you, Christian. And I trust you. I respect the hell out of you.”

“Even though you think I could be different, if only I’d been raised somewhere else? ”

“I didn’t say you should be different or that I want you to be different. Though we both know you cling to certain comforts and you do so because of how you were raised. If you had different parents or a different town, it’s possible you’d be less rigid in the way you react to change.”

“You want me to be less rigid?”

“I want you to be happy.” Her perfect bow lips curl into a sincere smile.

No taunting anymore. No teasing. “I know you think I get off on irritating you, but I see you when you’re wound tight, Christian.

I see how you grip on to same-ness like your life depends on it.

And I know, to you and your nervous system, it feels like your life does depend on it.

Everything hurts and everyone is loud, and all you want in those moments is for silence and things to slow the hell down.

To you, same-ness matters. My wish isn’t for you to change.

It’s for you to experience change and it not feel like splinters under your skin. ”

How does she know about the splinters? How can she possibly know how loud the world is?

“But back to your original question.” She sits forward again and picks up her fork.

“If I’m already dating someone else, then I’m not sure we can continue the magic penis thing, since…

well…” She spears a chunk of carrot and places it on her tongue.

“Loyalty and trust matter to me. How can I continue a casual affair with you—sans-condoms, even—if I’m dating someone else?

Worse, when I’m hearing stories of your courageous community service? ”

“She was kidding, by the way.” Dammit, Alana! “I don’t service people.”

“I’m terrified to know the specifics, since they’ll certainly ruin a perfectly pretty date.

” She swallows and slices into her chicken.

“When I ask if you’ll ever move away from Plainview, I don’t do so because I think you should be someone you’re not.

I just wish you knew the world outside of this town is kinda beautiful and large and wondrous. ”

“I’m sure it is, but?—”

“But if it hurts to even discuss it, then…” She gestures in my direction with the end of her fork. “I respect that. I won’t push it.”

And so we arrive at our impasse. She won’t come here, and I won’t go there. And fuck, but she already has this hypothetical boyfriend and loyalty placed at his hypothetical feet.

“You seem kinda stressed tonight.” She drags her napkin up and wipes around her lips, careful not to smudge her lipstick. Then setting it on the table beside her plate, she stands.

It’s a slow seduction. A gentle smoothing of her dress and a glide of her hands over her hips, down to her thighs. She wears heels tonight, not sexy little sneakers, and rewards me with a view of her legs that’ll stay with me for life.