“I can make you a smoothie or—”
“I just want to rest. Can we rest?”
We? “Of course.”
I set the plates on the dresser next to the drinks and hand her the bag of peas. Climbing back into the bed, I wait for her to decide what she wants to do, and I’m rewarded with her curling up against my side, the bag of vegetables on her face.
“Want me to turn on the TV?”
“Turn on something bad,” she says and chuckles. “Reality TV makes me happy. I feel a lot better about my life when I watch it.”
Opening up the guide, I look through until I find some Housewives show. I’d never watched it before, but Misty relaxes against me, and I’ll watch every episode ever made if it makes her happy.
It doesn’t take long until she falls asleep, and I turn off the TV and lights. I just watch her in the moonlight as she sleeps, thanking the universe she’s okay. That I heard her in time and stopped it before it was too far to come back from.
“I love you,” I whisper and kiss the top of her head.
One of these days, I’m going to say the words to her when she can hear me. One day soon, I hope.
Chapter Forty-One
Zeppelin
Idon’t remember falling asleep, but I open my eyes to find Misty still resting on my chest, her face swollen and bruised from last night. My poor girl.
Chonk lies in the crook of her knees while Peanut Butter stretches out along her back. Fucking traitors. Only likes the women.
Then again, I can’t really blame them. I like them, too.
I hear knocking on the front door, and I curse whoever’s out there as I gently slide out from underneath Misty. Grabbing my pillow, I place it under her head where my chest was, and I move as quietly as possible downstairs.
Opening the door, I about slam it shut. “What the fuck are you doing here, Chanel?”
“I wanted to talk.”
“I don’t.”
I close the door, but she opens it before I can lock it and walks inside. “Too bad. We need to talk. There’s too much history for us to just walk away like this.”
“Walk away like what?”
“Unfinished business.”
Is she serious? “What are you talking about?”
“We’re in love—”
“No, the fuck we’re not.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I shake my head in disbelief. Has she always been this delusional? Was I?
“Zep, you know as well as I do that this story between us isn’t finished. We’re meant to be together.”
“I don’t know how many other ways I can say this, but no, we’re not. We’re not meant to be. We’re not getting together. You’reengaged. Go marry Dorian.”
“I don’t love him. Not like I love you.”
Rubbing my face with both hands, I try to figure out how to get through to her. “Look, I have Misty upstairs, and I don’t want her seeing you.Idon’t want to see you, so get the fuck out of my house. There is nothing between us. Not anymore. Never again.”
