Page 123 of Lavender Lake
“I told you I loved you, and then you ghosted me.”
“I didn’tghostyou,” I mumbled.
“I told you I loved you, and you never said it back, and now you’re absolutely ghosting me. I want to know why.”
“I did too—tell you I loved you,” I fired back, feeling my cheeks heat with anger.
“Uh,noyou didn’t.”
“Did too.”
“Did not.”
“I took you to the tree,” I clarified. “And then I told you the truth about my tattoo.” I raised my eyebrows. “That means I love you.”
“In what language?” he snapped. “Because I speak English.”
“I thought you spoke Salem.”
“You expected me to realize those two things meant you loved me?”
“Yes.”
“And you don’t see the problem with that?”
“What? Do you want roses and chocolates or something?” I glared. “You and I are both people of action. Not words.”
“And yet, I still said the words. And if you do love me, then that doesn’t change the fact that you’ve been avoiding me and I want to know why.”
I clamped my mouth shut.
“Ah, so I get to guess why you ghosted me. Lucky me.” He pushed the brim of his hat back. “Okay, let’s see. Your emotions scare you.”
When I didn’t give an inclination that he was right or wrong, he continued.
“You slept with someone else and don’t want to tell me. But, I gotta say, if you did that?—”
“I didn’t sleep with anyone else, you idiot,” I retorted. “And screw you for even suggesting that could be an option. I wouldn’t hurt you that way.”
“I don’t think you’d hurt me that way either,” he protested. “But God damn it, Salem. You give me so little. Some reassurance would be nice, you know?”
“Oh my God, do you want it on a billboard? Salem loves Cas Bowman and is pregnant with his baby!”
Cas went still. “Say that again.”
“I’d rather not,” I grumbled, feeling my cheeks heat.
“Salem!” he barked.
I sighed. “Salem loves Cas Bowman.”
“Not that part. I already knew that part. I’m talking about the pregnant with my baby part.”
I swallowed. “The first night we were together . . . we had a failure of some sort.”
“Not operator error,” he said, his voice sounding very far away.
“No, not operator error,” I agreed. “We were regular Boy Scouts. But one of the condoms was clearly defective.”
