New chapter! Dedicated to goatmeal because of their hardcore fanning, kind messages, and all-around greatness. Maybe this wasn't how you thought the cliffhanger would end, but after writing six drafts of this chapter this is what I came up with. Song to the side if "Gravity" by Sara Bareilles.
The Twenty-Second Reason
“Just – just tell her you love her.”
“I can’t.”
If Thatcher and I were living in those Hallmark movies - the ones they play at one o’clock on the family channel, when the housewives of America are undergoing nap time – it would be tears all around. We’d be passing back and forth a box of tissues, sharing our feelings as openly as if we were discussing the weather. Or his obsessive-compulsive habits.
On the other hand, if we thrived in the war films every guy on the planet favored, the SWAT team would be busting down the door in an attempt to diffuse the prickly romantic tension.
Or whatever else the SWAT team did.
Unfortunately, though, Thatcher and I lived in reality.
“Thatcher –“ I started, but he cut me off before I could form an intelligent thought. Probably for better, rather than for worse.
“Never mind. It’s stupid. Let’s do something. Hunt down the pizza boy. Kill the tie. Whatever.”
“But –“
“What’s your chosen method of torture? Paper shredder? Iron maiden?”
“Thatcher,” I repeated. I pressed a finger to his lips, for good measure, trying to ignore the way my insides squirmed - not unpleasantly. That worried me, even more so than the fact that Thatcher’s voice had raised an entire octave. “You’re emotionally compromised.”
“No I’m not.” His voice was high and shrill, and he had to clear his throat to hide his clear embarrassment. “I’m not.”
“Are you sure –“
“C’mon. Death. Men’s accessories. Let’s go.”
Normally I might have let it go. Let the past remain in the past, or whatever other age-old words of wisdom you wanted to apply to this. But there were T-minus twenty-two minutes until he had to get in a car and actually drive, something that could potentially wipe out the town’s entire population – on a good day, let alone when he couldn’t see straight. I had enough trouble sleeping already.
I stood my ground, digging the balls of my feet into the deteriorating carpet. “Not till you fess up. Plus, I thought you were advocating ‘peace, not war?’”
“It’s the exception that proves the rule.”
“What about your emotional attachment?” I asked. “I thought you two had something special.”
YOU ARE READING
99 Reasons Why It Wasn't Love
Storie d'amoreBronwyn Kirk doubts that anyone can be as much of a romantic wreck as her - until she meets Thatcher Lucas, divorcee, bad driver, and determined to find out about Bronwyn's past.
