And what does that mean now? It’s all gonna start allfucking over again? The texts. The calls. The begging. The threats.
Fuck. He can’t track me down, can he?
I could have blocked his number. Could have changed mine.
Only, the idea of blocking his number had scared the shit out of me. Fuck, it still does.
If I block him, I don’t know what he’s thinking. Won’t have any warning if he finds a way to track me down and comes to try to drag me back to Tucson.
There’s no getting around the fact that the only reason I went up my own stairs to my apartment and not straight up to Jesse’s instead, plans or no plans, was that Jesse’s lights were off, which had to mean he wasn’t back from Alex’s place yet.
What the fuck is wrong with me that I can’t stop thinking about how cuddling up in Jesse’s warm, comfy arms would make my shitshow of a day all better? (And by the way, I’m taking a hard pass on diving into the fact that, two weeks ago, I’d have totally laughed my ass off at the idea of meeverthinking shit like that.) Regardless, it’s obvious that Jesse cuddles are not on the table tonight, and since there’s no use in being a needy bitch and sulking about it, I’m trying my best to keep myself good and distracted.
The problem is, my brain is way too jacked up and edgy to eventhinkabout trying to paint. Besides, even if I could get my mind to slow down enough, anything I started right now would just leave me feel like I’m laying out all those pesky, way-too-real-feeling feelings I’m not remotely ready to face.
As for playing my keyboard, I can’t even pretend like doingthat without Jesse on the other side of the wall to join in and listen really appeals.
At least I’ve managed to shake off the skin-crawling urge to scrub clean every inch of my already spotless apartment. Mostly.
So that’s how I’ve ended up here, sprawled out on my bed, one chapter into a goddamn romance novel.
Before I’d left work, Reagan had texted me the title of a book she said she justknewI’d be into. Not that reading’s ever really been my thing, but honestly? The girl’s right so far.
Non-stop thoughts about Jesse’s melt-worthy cuddle abilities aside, and I’ve gotta admit that Reagan’s book rec is doing its job pretty damn well.
I’ve finally gotten myself to dial down my blinding panic to a cringy ick whenever I remember that Josh’s unanswered text is here, on the same phone I’m reading from. And honestly? Fuck him.
One, he doesn’t know where I am. Two, there’sno fucking wayI’m worth it to him to drag his ass all the way here from Tucson.
Holding my breath, I pull up my contacts on my phone. Close my eyes for a moment. Select Josh’s name. Block his motherfucking ass.
And then my breath whooshes out and I’m grinning like a lunatic becauseholy shitbut that feels fucking fantastic.
Next door, there’s a muffled bump outside. The sound of the front door opening. Closing.
And I’m just gonna sit here and pretend like my heart didn’t just do a swoopy leap and that all that nauseous lump that’s been twisting away in my stomach most of the day didn’t just vanish. ‘Cause that would betotallyridiculous.
No level of denial is enough though to ignore the almost-real-life-heart-attack I have when my phone buzzes in my hand, ‘Sunshine’ popping up on the screen.
By the way, that sound I barely swallowed down just now? Totally wasn’t a squeal. Nope. No such thing.
And I definitelydon’tfull-on scramble to open up my messages.
Then, for a hot second, all I can do is stare. Oh, and smile. So much hearty-eyed, butterfly-fueled smiling.
Sunshine:If you’re not doing anything, do you want to come over?
Variations of “OMFG, yes! Yes! YES!” rapid fire through my brain, but obviously, I can’t send shit like that back to him. So with a grin, I type out the next best thing.
Me:Sunshine! *gasping face emoji* Is this a booty call??!!
And then, ‘cause I can onlyimaginewhat that message’s gone and done to his face, and ‘cause there’s no way in hell I’m gonna let all that sexy blushing I justknowhe’s doing right now go to waste, I’m bouncing right up off my bed.
Lights off, door locked, and I’m on my way next door to turn my shitty day into the exact opposite.
Oh, and that message by the way?Totallysounds like a booty call.
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