Chapter Twenty-Two
Tzipi had something she hadn’t had in a while: a good dream about Lorne. Nothing major, he was just there and smiling and she didn’t feel the spiraling sense of doom that usually accompanied dreams of him.
She also had had three orgasms last night, and woke to Jonah’s arm over her like the best weighted blanket. The kind you pull closer when you wake early and realize it’s a weekend and you can roll back over and sleep in. Which is exactly what she did.
The next time she woke, sunlight was filtering through the one double-window in his apartment. The bed was empty, but the air was filled with a delicious scent. She didn’t have to look far: Jonah was at the small wall of appliances across the studio apartment. His bare back to her, and…in black boxer briefs, just like she had imagined. His hair looked dark, slicked back from the shower. How had she not heard any of this activity until now?
Oh yeah, three orgasms. She’d been a sex coma, the deep sleep that finally arrives after you succumb. She propped herself up on an elbow and watched him hustle. Reaching to push the coffee machine button, popping something out of the toaster, his linebacker frame blocking whatever magic he was stirring up on the cooktop.
“Hey, morning.”
Jonah had plated up the steaming goodness, delivering it to the bistro table at arm’s length. Real estate was precious in this apartment, and Tzipi decided she liked it far better than the cavernous loft that she’d been trying to make feel like home.
“Hi.” It came out shy. Not sure why – after all, this was the guy she had literally jumped ship with. And climbed like a jungle gym. “That smells amazing, what is it?”
“I joked about onions, lox and eggs last night, but seriously. It’s the best breakfast I know how to make. And I happened to have all the ingredients in the house.”
She pulled his oversize shirt back on, wincing as her hair extensions caught in the collar. She hadn’t done any of the things Kara and the stylist had instructed her to do: brushing it before bed, braiding it, sleeping on a silk pillowcase, and the biggest one: avoiding getting it wet. The result was a tangled mess. Matted to one side of her head, ratted out on the other. Not the worst of her problems, but…not ideal.
Speaking of worst…she reached for her phone. Kara’s phone.
Hope your guy is ok!!!! And no worries, Kara. Let’s embargo the news till Monday. Full-on Hanukkah launch!
I’ll text you Sunday pm w. time & place
“That him?” Jonah asked.
She nodded. “Says he won’t announce till Monday. When I meet him.”
Jonah’s hands flexed. Like he wanted to punch Rob through the phone. “Two days. We can work with that. Meanwhile —”
He gestured to neatly stacked luggage, taking up way too much square footage in the living space. “Asher dropped off your stuff. Not that I don’t want you to live in my Rutgers shirt for the rest of time.”
Jeez, the entire Rose Bowl parade could’ve marched through the place, and she wouldn’t have been the wiser.
“He said Talia packed it…and that she may or may not have tried a few things on.”
Tzipi laughed. Kara had left her with a capsule collection, “just-in-case,” that would get her through the next few days as Kara-like as possible. As much fun as it had been to play dress-up, she was ready for her own things. Thankfully, the small carry-on she hadn’t even unpacked at the hotel sat on the top of the pile.
“Also – do you want some good news first, or more bad news?”
Her laugh abruptly died in her throat. Could it get any worse? “How bad is the bad?”
“Asher said the hotel was swarming with press outside. Looking to catch sight of either you or Hannon — I guess he was checked in there, too.”
Tzipi groaned. Inevitable, she supposed. “The good better be really good.”
“He brought us the city’s best bagels.”
“Jewish Grandma brand?” She shimmied into a pair of her own panties, letting the shirt hang like a dress as she joined him at the table.
“Nah, she gets hers from the Naked Bagel. No use in trying to duplicate perfection.”
“Unlike me, last night.” She rolled her eyes, grabbing a sesame from the pile as he fetched their coffee.
“Um, beg to differ.” He leaned over to place a mug down, sneaking a kiss to her neck right where it met the soft, frayed fabric of his shirt. “Perfection right here.”
His whisper was as sweet as however he took his caffeine. She had to squeeze her bare legs together to tame her lady parts into submission.
