Page 68 of Crazy Thing

I’m surprised when she doesn’t fight back. Instead, she wraps her arms around her wet, shivering body.

I’m tempted to give her my suit jacket, but it’s dripping wet and would probably just make her even colder. If she’d just quit being stubborn, I could take her inside and wrap her up in a blanket in front of my fireplace.

“Fine. I’ll park here for the night.”

“You’re not sleeping in that thing either,” I growl. “I won’t let you.”

If the wind kicks up, her bus will be the first thing to blow over. Everyone knows the worst place to be in a storm is a vehicle. Especially a damn school bus.

“You really think you’re the boss of me, don’t you?” Ziggy asks, hand fisted on her hip.

I shake my head. She’s being ridiculous. Why’s she always so hell bent on turning down my help? She wouldrather put herself in danger than be around me longer than she has to?

“I’m supposed to leave you to sleep inside a soup can on wheels when I have a warm seven bedroom mansion right across the yard?” I chuff. “That thing is more than just an eyesore. It’s a safety hazard, too.”

I can fit Ziggy’s entire house inside my linen closet. But it probably would not be productive to say that to her right now.

“Excuse me? That soup can on wheels is myhome, you superior asshole. It’s. My. Home. The place where I feel safest. The place where I can be me without worrying that I’m being judged or without having to put on a corporate smile or worrying that my parents don’t approve or wondering if I fit in.”

Her rage-filled words smack me square in the face.

“Shit—I…I’m sorry. I…” I’m just trying to talk some sense into her. But obviously, I’m going about it in the wrong way.

She stands there, waiting for me to finish, like she’s giving me a chance to redeem myself. For once.

I open my mouth. Whatever perfect words I’m hoping will come and save me, don’t come out.

Ziggy stomps right up into her bus and slams the door shut, leaving me standing there in the rain. Feeling like a drowned puppy. What am I saying? I’m not the poor innocent pet here. I’m the monster.

I don’t want Ziggy to feel judged. I don’t want her to feel like she doesn’t belong. And I sure as hell don’t want her to feel unsafe.

I fucked up. Again. It's all I do these days.

Maybe this is another side effect of my curse?

Nah. I’ve always been an asshole. The witches didn’t dothat to me. I’d love to blame everything on this stupid death hex, but I can’t blame anyone but myself here. I know I need to take accountability for how poorly I’m handling this.

Yeah, Ireallyfucked up.

I’m still standing there in the rain, berating myself when the bus’s engine starts up. Then Ziggy’s house on wheels slowly starts to ease backward.

Ah, dammit. She can’t leave! Not in this storm!

I jump into action, nearly slipping in a rain puddle as I sprint toward the crawling bus. I grab the handle, yank the door open and hop inside, desperate to keep Ziggy from driving off into the terrible weather.

Ziggy startles, letting out a gasp. Her eyes are wide and wild when she sees me climbing onto her moving vehicle.

“What are you doing!?” she screeches. She shoves the gear back into ‘park’, jolting the bus to a jerky stop. Then she hops out from behind the wheel to confront me.

But I don't want to hear it.Not this time.

Before she can even begin yelling at me, I grab her cheeks in my palms, slam my mouth against hers and kiss the hell out of her.

29

ZIGGY

I’m done fighting this. It’s no use.

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