She swears she doesn’t, and that I’m just giving her shit. She’s obviously lying to herself, because we spent the last three nights together, and they were snore city. It’s cute snoring, quiet and breathy, the kind of noise you’d hear from a baby panda. I don’t have a problem sleeping through it, so it’s not a big deal.
Still, I’m tempted to record a video of her right now, with her head on my shoulder, the hoodie she stole from me covering her hair, her mouth wide open as she broadcasts her cute little snores. It would rival the photo of me she printed for the White Elephant socks.
Lucky for her, I’m a benevolent and merciful man. It’s also kind of nice that she trusts me enough to nap on my shoulder while we wait for our plane home to start boarding. I don’t want to betray that trust for blackmail material, no matter how satisfying that might be.
The last few days have been un-freaking-believable—all poker and Pippa, my two favorite things. I already miss being able to walk down the street, holding her hand. I pretty much blew my tournament winnings on gifts and totally unnecessaryhotel upgrades, but having the freedom to pretend Pippa and I were a real couple was worth any cost.
We might have to give up the public aspect once we’re back home, but there are a few things from vacation I’m sure I can manage in Canada. Pool sex, for instance. I’m sure I can find a place to rent out for round two.
Pippa sighs in her sleep, then snuggles deeper into my shoulder. I swallow my laugh. She needs all the sleep she can get, especially if I decide to keep her up late again tonight…
I open my phone to play some online poker, and a notification pops up, letting me know that Pippa’s newest article is posted. Yeah, I set up Google notifications for Pippa’s articles. So what? I like being able to read her stuff. I’m especially pumped for this one, because I never got the full story on how the blackout I initiated played out. DidJacobfreak out? Was the mood instantly ruined? Was Nate stuck paying the bill in cash? I open the article, prepared for the sweet taste of victory.
Instead, every fucking word tastes bitter in my mouth.
Because the whole fucking article is raving about a man who isn’t me. It’s a fucking love letter to Jacob, a man she met three goddamn days ago. When she told me about the date, she basically told me he was good on paper. Nice. Handsome. Boring.
That was a far cry from how she writes about this asshole.
Someone who really sees you.
Someone who’s truly kind, in a world that can feel so cruel.
Someone to spend forever with.
My stomach burns like I’ve just swallowed a hot coal. The phrase “truly kind” feels like it’s pointed at me, condemning me for all the times I’ve acted like a jerk to Pippa. But that’s always been our dynamic. We fight, but it’s playful. We pick at each other, but it’s just because we know each other so well. At least, that’s what I thought.
Pippa lets out another snore, louder than the others. I wish I could just shove her away from my shoulder, let her nap on somebody else. Then I could pace and get out some of the energy surging through my body. I feel like I could go run a couple of miles, powered by resentment alone.
Fuck.
If Pippa was so in love with this asshole, Jacob, then why the hell did she agree to go on this trip with me? Why has she spent the last four nights inmybed? Why did she pepper my face with kisses after I bought her those fucking shoes?
There’s a loud crackle, then the flight attendant speaks. “We are now starting our initial boarding for Flight 118, from San Juan to Toronto. We’ll start by boarding families and anyone who needs a little extra time.”
Pippa shifts against my shoulder and rubs her eyes. “Is that us?” she murmurs groggily.
The burning feeling in my gut turns icy cold. I know it’s not fair to be angry at her. She never made me any promises, never made the fact that she was going out with other guys a secret. Hell, she made a point of publishing it, so everyone in the world could see it.
“Yeah, I think we’re in the next group.” My voice sounds chilly, but that’s good. I let myself get too close to her, these past few days, and I need to start keeping my distance. She obviously thinks Jacob is her future, so why would I torture myself by acting like her boyfriend now?
Neither of us says anything as we gather up our stuff to board. We shuffle silently toward our first-class seats, and she gives me a muffledthank youwhen I put her suitcase in the overhead compartment.
Once we take our seats, I start scanning through the in-flight movies. I need an excuse not to look at her. If I do, the pit forming in my chest might collapse in on itself and bury me.
“It’ll be hard going home,” she murmurs. “You know, going back to the way things were.” She glances up at me through her lashes in a way I would usually find adorable.
I swallow down the hard lump in my throat. “It’s always hard coming back from vacation. But we can’t live in dreamland forever.”
“Yeah.” She turns away, looking out the window. “I guess we can’t.”
Angry-girl rock musicvibrates out of Pippa’s open bedroom door. She’s obviously pissed at someone—me. When the car brought us back from the airport, I went right to my room and stayed there for the next twelve hours. At some point, Pippa texted to ask if I wanted to order dinner. I didn’t answer it, because…
Because I’m an asshole.
Ugh. I know that giving someone the silent treatment is loser teenager behavior. I’m an adult man. I could have justtoldPippa that her dating other guys is starting to bug me. But then again, what could she have said in response? It’s not like she’s going to suddenly quit looking for a boyfriend. She wants more than sex, and that’s all she can get from me.
I rake my fingers through my hair and gather my courage. I’ll just go in there, offer to order take-out as a peace offering, and get us back on stable ground. There’s nothing to be scared of in there.
