When I don’t answer, Wren continues, her tone gentle but almost pitying.
“You deserve a real happily ever after, Pops.Yourhappily ever after, whatever that looks like. Keep your eye on the prize. It’s fine if you want to hook up with him and make the most of this bizarro situation you have going on, but please remember that. Don’t let yourself get attached; you’ll only end up hurt. Get the café, stay married for as long as you need to avoid any backlash, and then,” she makes a slicing motion across her throat. “Cut your ties. The legal ones, I mean.”
I nod solemnly.
Wren does have a point. Yet, all I can think about is how whenever I have been hurt, Jett has been the one there to pick me up, to notice that I need support when no one else does.
You’ve always inspired me, Pops.
His words echo and reverberate in my mind. The subtle hints he’s dropped that our current relationship isn’t the first time he’s thought about me.
I love Wren dearly, but sometimes she can be so black and white, so self-preserving, and stubborn. Her traits, for betteror for worse, extend to the people she loves when she feels they need protecting. But everything I’ve seen from Jett in the last few weeks tells me she might just be wrong about this.
Still, it doesn’t negate the fact that Jett and I lead very different lives, ones that wouldn’t fit together no matter how hard we might try.
Once I’ve sufficiently reassured Wren that I’m not falling for Jett, and under no circumstances will I entertain the very real feelings I’m having for him, she gets up and throws her coat and scarf on. And then she’s gone.
I lock up behind her, finish shutting off all the lights, and head up the staircase at the back of the café that leads to my apartment.
When I get inside and shut the door behind me, I pull out my phone again to check the messages and find a new one from Jett.
Suddenly, the conversation I just had with Wren is forgotten, like a distant memory in my past that my brain has chosen to filter out to save cognitive space for other, more important things. Like the fact that Jett has admitted he’s been thinking about last night.
We text back and forth, the flirtatious tension palpable through the phone screen, and butterflies careen around in my gut when I read the most recent one that’s come in.
JETT
Good. It’s time for our next lesson.
CHAPTER 35
POPPY
JETT
First order of business, did you get the package I sent you?
Yes, I just haven’t had time to open it.
I glanceover at the brown box that has been sitting on my counter since this morning. I put it there, not knowing what it was, and fully intended on opening it. But Ethan called from the café because Maryann was back for her oat milk matcha latte, and I’ve been busy ever since.
I wander over to it and pull a knife out of my knife block, sliding it through the clear tape on top. I remove the packaging from inside and pull out another box. The picture on the outside indicates that this is some sort of device… I turn the box over and read the description.
Silicone Rabbit-Style Vibrator for G-spot & Clitoral Stimulation.
The familiar heaviness lands at the apex of my thighs as I take it out of the package and turn it over in my hands,imagining what I would even do with this, where I would even begin. I press the button on the side of it and it buzzes to life, making me jump. I shut it off quickly.
Snapping a quick picture of it, I send it to Jett with a question mark. I hop up onto my kitchen counter and sit, examining the hot pink rubber.
It’s a vibrator.
Duh.
I reply, but there’s a grin on my face at the way Jett and I have been texting lately. Like we’re comfortable with each other. Like this could be more than just a PR relationship.
I didn’t know if you’d know what it was.
I’ll admit, I had to read the description.
