“Thanks.” I sunk onto my bed and covered my face, the soft vanilla-scented bear gently leaning into my side.
What was I going to tell Angel? We were supposed to hang out today. I wanted see him, but not when I was a mess. I texted him, writing and deleting a million pet names before deciding to go with a cute reminder of his gift.
To my surprise, he texted right away.
He sent a selfie: a sleepy, cute shirtless pic where his hair was still mussed.
I hugged my bear, wishing that sweet cologne was his, and that he’d be here to hold me for real.
I snorted a giggle.
How could he make me laugh at a time like this?
I wanted him to pick up all the little pieces of my life and put me back together again. But that wasn’t fair to him. I had to be fun. Romantic. Like an early relationship should be.
Okay, I could be convinced. But first, I had to give him the new address.
Chapter seventeen
Sleeping Beauty
Icalled Kat to make sure it was okay for Angel to hang out at the apartment. “He wants to get breakfast,” I told her.
“For all of us?” she questioned.
“Um, I can ask. Or I can order a box of donuts to be delivered by the time we get back,” I said.
“Ah, don’t worry about it. Victor and I have to go to work soon, anyway. Maybe Angel can get us some discount cake another day.”
“To celebrate me moving out,” I joked halfheartedly.
“Yes! Speaking of, we’re gonna be at the house in a minute,” she said.
“You brought Victor?” Did that mean I should put on a bra, or was he considered more ‘casual’ company? I pulled Angel’s hoodie tighter around me.
“He’s here just in case we needed some muscle,” she said. “Are you meeting us outside or should we come in?”
“I don’t know. I’m a little overwhelmed, at the moment.” I scanned the room and hooked my hair behind my ear, sure I’d forgotten to pack some key item. What about the things I left? Would Jen do something to them?
Kat’s hum drew my attention to the call. “Okay. I’ll either see you out front, or we’ll knock when we get there. See you soon.”
“Thanks, Kat.” I hung up, then flew through the room, trying to pack more into my bags until four sharp raps on the downstairs door caught my ear.
“I’ll get it,” I called, struggling to close my bloated suitcase. By the time I dragged my stuff into the hall, Dad had gotten to the door. “I’ll get it,” I repeated, slightly shrill as I attempted to hurry down the steps, but the extra weight slowed me to Jen’s pace.
Dad’s dry, sleepy voice cracked with surprise. “Kat? What are you—”
