“He can get a little silly. But he’s a great assistant.” I gesture at the boxes. “Anyway, these’re for you.”
“For me? What’s the occasion?” She walks toward the boxes, her eyes on mine.
“Open one. You’ll see.” Vegas didn’t work out the way I wanted, but I’m dying to see her reaction to my alternate plan.
She pulls the tape off one of the boxes, then gasps when she sees books inside. She pulls one out, flips the cover open and puts a hand over her mouth. “Oh my God! This is the special edition I was talking about! And it’sautographed. Andpersonalized!” She takes out another and checks it, then picks up a third. “Are they all autographed?”
I nod. “I was actually going to take you to that event in Vegas, but things, ah, didn’t exactly work out the way I had planned last night. So I sent Cody to grab them for you.”
She takes a step back, looking at the boxes. Then she turns and jumps on me with a cry of excitement, looping her limbs around my neck and waist.
I hug her back, wrapping my arms around her and holding her tight. She feels like sweet dreams and heaven. But the bright light in her eyes is the greatest reward.
“Happy belated birthday,” I say, my heart pounding.
“But you already gave me a present.”
“That was for Pre-Girlfriend Molly. These are for Girlfriend Molly.”
She pulls back to look at me. Her lips tremble. Happiness, trepidation and something else I can’t put my finger on fleet over her beautiful face. I made such a tiny gesture, and she’s already overwhelmed.
It’s an inflection point in our relationship, one I need to take care with. When people are too overcome, they start to retreat. Like a computer shutting down when it overheats.
“If you keep doing things like this, I might not want to stay fake.” She attempts a joke in a shaky voice.
Oh, baby, that’s the plan. “You better get used to it, Molly. You’remygirlfriend now.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Molly
Manifestation works,Georgia said.You focus on what you want and wish for it and it’s yours.
I’ve given it a week, but it doesn’t work. It’s like the universe is punishing me for saying out loud what I wanted in my new apartment.
I do another search online early Saturday morning, hoping that the realtors and apartment management companies updated their listings. After all, aren’t weekends the prime time to show vacant units?
But everything that pops up is out of my price range, too far from work or in areas I wouldn’t feel comfortable driving through, much less living in. I haven’t looked for a place to rent in a couple of years, but I don’t remember my last search being this difficult.
I pick up my phone to whine to my bestie.
–Me: Argh! It’s so frustrating! I can’t find a new apartment! It’s like this city doesn’t have anywhere for a young woman to live!
–Georgia: Sorry to hear that. But it’s not life or death. Just crash at Nicholas’s place a little longer.
–Me: But I feel so wrong here.
Nicholas keeps doing things that confuse me.I keep feeling like I could be hisrealgirlfriend. And I’m afraid I’m alone in this delusion. A little distance between us might clarify things, but it’s impossible when we’re living together.
–Georgia: Why? Does Nicholas walk around naked or something?
My face heats. If he did, I’d just turn into a puddle of hot need and die. There’s only so much sensory overload my body can process…
–Me: No. He’s a total gentleman. You know that.
Which is a problem. For me. Living with Nicholas makes me realize I’m a closet pervert…probably. There’s an awful, naughty side of me that wishes he would be a littlelessgentlemanly. I wouldn’t mind it if he pushed me against the wall like in that hot scene fromWrong Jersey Right Guy.
He wouldn’t even have to beactivelyless gentlemanly. Like he could be so bad at tying a towel around his hips that it slipped off every now and again…
