“Yeah? Since when do you like romantic and sweet?”
Her shoulder lifted with a shrug as she took her vape again.
“Is that… Are you…are you jealous?” I chanced.
“Yes, I am,” she confessed. “There, I said it.” She shook her head, her cheeks flushed. “When I watched you blurting out about a secret, hopeless love, I felt angry and betrayed, but mostly fuckin’ jealous.”
He stared at her sheepish smile and then down at her intertwined hands, his head packed with a million questions. “Why?” He chanced again, his throat tight with anticipation, a flicker of hope in his heart. Even though he knew better than to give in if she hinted that she felt something for him, and he was just torturing himself, he had to know.
“I don’t know. I have no right to feel that way, but this is how I felt. It’s ridiculous, and…”
He wrapped his hands around hers, and she flinched for a split-second. Slowly, she lifted her head, swallowing. “I have no excuse…for the way I felt, and for not talking to you. I have no idea what I was thinking.” Her thumb stroked softly against his skin, and his breath caught.
“I needed to give my relationship with Kyle my full attention. I didn’t tell you about my feelings for him or living with him because you’d talk me out of it.”
His shoulders slumped as the flicker of hope died. “So that’s what it’s all about? Maggie, you can’t talk someone out of real love, don’t you think?”
Her warm sigh hit his hands as she dropped her gaze. “Mike…please.”
He pointed toward the door. “Why didn’t you move into his place instead of installing this ugly thing?”
“Oh, believe me, I tried. That was…” Her fingers contracted, claw-like.
“What’s wrong with his place?”
“Nothing. It’s just… I didn’t feel comfortable there. I wanted to change almost everything. So why do that when we can simply live here? I only put up a fuckin’ door to make a little private room to use when I need.”
“Look at this place. It was perfect the way it was. Now, look at that stupid door. That tall misfit is the only thing wrong here. You must have tried every possible solution to fit that fuckin’ thing, but I know—and I’m not doubting your architectural skills—that thing will never fit here.”
Her lashes cast a shadow across her cheeks. “Can we please talk about something else?”
He didn’t want to drop the subject, but she was too stressed to continue. He would never want to add her to her pain, even if it was for her own good. “Fine. Sure.” He went over to the garment bag. “Come see one of your birthday gifts.”
“It’s like three weeks away.”
“Well, I know how much you hate shopping, and you’ll probably push the trip to the store to the last minute. I figured I’d save you the trouble.” He unzipped the bag, revealing a black evening gown.
She placed her palms on either side of her face, gasping. “Mike!” She hurried to him. Her fingers felt the softness of the dress hung on the padded hanger. The one-shouldered top was made of buttery leather, crisscrossing at the waist. The panel mini skirt had a zipper on the thigh with a piece of lace underneath.
“If you don’t like it, I can change it,” he said.
“Are you crazy? It’s amazing.” She looked up at him. “And it matches those ankle boots. Did you buy this from Milan, too?” Her fingers searched for the tags fast. “Oh my God,” she squealed when the writing on the tag confirmed he had. She bent his head down to her and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
He felt a ridiculous heat in his cheeks, as if he were a fucking virgin. “If there’s anything wrong with the size, let me know. I can get it fixed.” He handed her the bag. “It’s an eight, but you’re skinnier than the last time I saw you.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’s perfect.” She strode to the closet, hung the dress, and squatted, leaning inside for a moment. When she came out she had a small velvet box in her hand. “I’d try it on, but I want you to see it for the first time on my birthday.”
“Um…about that—”
“No!” She stalked back to him. “Please don’t say you can’t make it.”
“I will try really hard, I promise.”
She sulked, her lips pouting, her eyes glittering.
His heart did something worrisome in his chest. “Oh, come on, Carolina.”
“It’s okay. I know how busy you can be,” she murmured.
