Page 141 of Crushing Clover

“They like to make fancy shit, but they still enjoy pizza once in a while—especially when they’ve been drinking.”

In all my months with them, I’d never seen any of them drunk. Hopefully, they wouldn’t get any dangerous ideas.

“I think going to this trouble will make him feel special. He goes out of his way to take care of us. We can do the same for him sometimes.”

“He may not appreciate the effort as much as you hope he will.” He grimaced apologetically.

“I’m not looking for compliments. I want him to know we appreciate him.”

“The house and the office already look a thousand times better than when you moved in,” he said, as though he didn’t help me with everything. “Once we’re done paying off Cygnet, maybe we can buy a new couch for in here.”

I shrugged, trying to act nonchalant even though it sounded like he thought I’d be here to use that new couch. Had they been talking about me when I wasn’t around, or was he simply assuming? For weeks, I’d been dreading hitting the six-month mark when they could send me back to Warren, and now it was only weeks away.

Every day, I tucked away memories with them, hoping my life wasn’t about to become grim and horrible. Soon, I might only have memories to cling to.

Maybe I meant enough to Lucky and Rush that they’d try to change Saint’s mind. Even if they did like me, though, keeping me would be a huge commitment. They’d have to feed me, clothe me. If they got bored or decided they didn’t like me after all, then what? They couldn’t simply break up with me.

It was devastating to think, but they’d be better off without me.

I tied a yellow balloon to the top handle of the filing cabinet.

If things got too bad with the next people who bought me, there was always a way out. A permanent one.

“What did you get Rush for his birthday?” I asked Lucky, trying to shake off the feeling of impending doom.

“I can’t tell you. It’s a surprise!” he said, wrinkling his nose and not making eye contact.

“It doesn’t have to be a surprise from me.”

“It’s bad luck to see a bride before the wedding.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t think that saying applies to any part of this evening.”

“Probably not.”

“Unless…is it a ring?”

He coughed. His blush was cute. As much as they acted like a bunch of emotionally repressed dudes, Lucky was still wildly in love with Rush, even after years of being together.

“What?” I asked innocently. “Saint is completely devoid of human emotion, but that doesn’t mean you have to be. You’re allowed to be in love with Rush.”

He gave a one-shouldered shrug and grabbed a balloon and a roll of tape. “We don’t talk about things like that.”

“That’s some bullshit toxic masculinity, my friend. I think you should tell him you love him as often as you want to. Be completely unhinged about it. We only get to live this life once. Wouldn’t you rather say it, instead of trying to act cool about it?”

“Rush and I have never had the kind of relationship I would categorize as romantic.” He moved to tape a balloon to the wall, then paused. “Do you think this paint is cured enough for this?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but it’s probably still too fresh.”

I still couldn’t believe they’d let me pick all the new paint colors for the house and the office and had trusted me to do the painting. The rooms were much less austere now than their original builder’s white.

“Why not tell me? I’d hate to wreck your hard work because you were too shy to say so.”

“It’s not my office, like the house is not my house.”

He scoffed. “You care more about the house than we do—how it looks, at least. It’s so much homier in here now, too. I’d never really thought about things like table lamps and throw pillows.”

“Glad you like it. I’m not sure anyone else cares.”

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