“I fell asleep at Merrill’s.”
“Right.” She sounds dubious.
“Were you up all night with Charlie?” I ask, hoping to deflect.
“I was. And I have to be at work in three hours.” She turns wearily. “Were you with Jordan?”
“Shh,” I whisper, scowling at her. “What difference does it make?”
“Dad left early this morning and he noticed you weren’t here. He asked me where you were, and I pretended I didn’t realize you weren’t in bed.”
“Thanks.” I sigh, bouncing Charlie gently. “Let me take him to my bed and lie down with him. Maybe he’ll doze until Mom gets up.”
“Mom still doesn’t feel well,” she says.
“I have class at ten. I can’t stay home. It’s almost the end of the semester.”
She scowls. “Mom is sick and I have to work.”
“You can take a sick day,” I say patiently. “You still get paid.”
“I’m trying to save those to go on a girls’ trip this summer.”
I arch my brows at her. “I’m sorry, Ivy, but I can’t skip school so you can save your sick days to go on vacation. He’s your responsibility, not mine.”
“I keep your secrets!” she hisses.
I stare at her. “Really? After all we’ve been through, that’s where you’re going with this. Fine. Do whatever you have to do.” I hand Charlie back to her and then turn and walk out of the room.
Slipping into my room, I kick off my shoes and sit on the edge of the bed. I slept pretty well last night, just not long enough, and now I’m torn between wanting to sleep for another hour or so and jumping in the shower to get a headstart on my day. My bed is so inviting but it’s probably better to get out of the house and maybe do some reading before class.
I strip out of my clothes and pull on my bathrobe, then dig through my dresser to figure out what I want to wear. Winter is short in South Florida, so it’s already hot as hell, and I opt for a cute denim skort and a short-sleeve top. I don’t know if I’ll see Jordan today but I’d like to look cute in case I do.
There’s a knock on my door and I open it to find Ivy standing there looking contrite.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t mean it. I’m just…tired.”
“I know. It’s okay.”
“I put Charlie in my bed but I don’t know how long he’ll sleep. I’m going to try to doze for a while and then call in sick.”
“I’m sorry you have to do that,” I say gently. “I’ll help out when I get home from school.”
“Thanks.” She hugs me tightly and then heads back to her room.
So much for seeing Jordan today.
I feel a sharp pang of frustration.
I was working last night so Jordan and I didn’t get to spend any quality time together, and then I passed out almost as soon as we got back to his place.
That memory makes me smile.
He gave me an awesome massage that relaxed me right to sleep.
He can be so sweet and thoughtful—I wish I could reciprocate. I just don’t have the free time that he has, which is kind of ironic considering what he does for a living. Of course, all he has to think about is hockey and me. He doesn’t cook, clean, or even pay many bills. His job is physically demanding but otherwise, he’s somewhat untethered. I work and go to school, study, help out at home, spend a significant amount of time with Charlie, and now I’ve been doing more chores around the house too.
How the hell am I going to fit Jordan into all of that?
