Do Your Worst

by Rosie Danan

“—but I don’t like my shitty thing being the last shitty thing that happened. So, here.” She held the basket out. “Guilt cheese.” “Is that an American idiom?” “No, there’s really cheese in there.” She shook the handle until he grasped it. “Plus sausage rolls, apples, and some grapes.” “No wine?” He opened the hamper, saw a napkin with the pub’s logo. “Not much of an apology.” She shrugged. “I don’t like you that much.”

Need them again

“I guess I feel guilty seeing you walking around all extra mopey.” “It’s called brooding,” Clark said, standing up a little straighter, “and no one complained when Darcy did it.” “Yeah, well”—she gave him a look just shy of a leer—“that’s because Colin Firth had the decency to get his shirt wet.”

Missing her spectacular snark

“Is it too much?” he said, soft, serious. “Do you want to stop?” Riley shook her head, panting against his pillow. “I’ll fucking kill you.”

☺️☺️