Crush (Crave #2) - Tracy Wolff Page 0,18

give him another chance, though they are pretty persuasive. It’s the way he says them, like our friendship really matters to him. Like he misses me as much as I’m finding out that I miss him.

It’s because I do miss him, because I don’t want to believe that all those moments that meant something to me didn’t also mean something to him, that I make what may be my worst mistake yet. Instead of telling him to go to hell, instead of telling him it’s too late and I’ll never give him another chance, I say, “You better not, because if you ever pull anything like that again, you won’t have to worry about killing me. Because I promise, I’ll get to you first.”

His whole face breaks out into that ridiculous grin I’ve never been able to resist. “Deal. If I try to kill you again, you can totally try to kill me back.”

“There won’t be any try about it,” I tell him with my best pretend glare. “Only death. Your death.”

He places a hand over his heart in mock horror. “You know what? You say that with a lot of conviction. I actually think you mean it.” Contrarily, his grin only gets bigger.

“I do mean it. Want to test me out?”

“No way. I was in the hallway the day you turned to stone. I saw what happened to Hudson,” Flint says. “You’ve become a total badass, Grace.”

“Excuse me, but I have always been a badass. You were just too busy trying to kill me to notice.” It’s pretty hard to look down your nose at someone taller than you, but here, in this moment with Flint, I’m proud to say I manage it.

“I’m noticing now.” He waggles his brows. “And I definitely like it.”

I sigh. “Yeah, well, don’t like it too much. This”—I gesture back and forth between the two of us—“is still a probationary thing. So don’t mess it up.”

He puts his hands on his hips, his stance wide like he’s bracing for a blow he’s totally willing to take. “I won’t,” he says. And he sounds surprisingly serious.

I hold his gaze for a minute and then nod, the smile I’ve been fighting since I saw him again finally crinkling my eyes. “Good. Now, can we please get back to the project? Or are we going to stand out here talking about our feelings all day?”

“Wow.” He gives me a fake wide-eyed look. “Turn a girl into a gargoyle and suddenly she’s all kinds of stone-coldhearted.”

“Wow.” I return his look with one of my own. “Turn a boy into a dragon and suddenly he’s all kinds of ridiculous.”

“That’s not my dragon, baby. That’s all me.”

I roll my eyes but can’t stop myself from grinning at his goofiness. It’s really good to be able to joke with him again. “I hate to break it to you, baby, but I’m pretty sure it’s the both of you.”

Flint pretends to swoon, and I take the opportunity to yank the list of photography subjects out of his hands. I’m smart enough to know if I don’t get the boy on task soon, there’s no way we’re going to finish this. And since I can use all the points I can get, we really, really should start moving.

Except, as I peruse the list again—this time with a much clearer head—I realize that we’ve got a giant problem. “Some of the things he wants us to take pictures of are way up high. There’s no way we’ll be able to get a picture of them good enough to use for research.”

But Flint just winks at me, that wicked grin of his on full display. “You do remember dragons can fly, right?”

Oh, hell no. I shake my head. “I’m sorry, but our tree of trust is still just a twig. No way am I letting you take me up into the sky.”

He laughs. “Fine, spoilsport. We’ll focus on the easy ones today. But one of these days soon, I’m totally taking you flying.”

I shiver and almost remind him he has taken me flying before—in his talons—but I don’t want to break our newfound truce. “That’ll take some convincing.”

“I live to serve, my lady,” he says as he drops into an elaborate bow, and I can’t help but laugh. He is so ridiculous that it’s hard to take him seriously.

I jokingly try to shove his shoulder, but damn, maybe he’s the gargoyle here. He’s definitely hard enough to be made of stone. “Come on, give me

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