“This doesn’t count,” I murmur, tracing soft circles over her clit with my thumb.
She pants. “Doesn’t count?”
“We had to kiss to fool everyone. We’re just practicing now.” I trail my lips from her temple to her cheek, then her mouth, losing myself for a minute. “Need to make it convincing for next time. Any lawyer would back me up in court.”
Her laugh stutters into another breathless sound as I slide my fingers lower, testing how ready she is for me.
“Jack,” she warns, or tries to at least. My name melts into a moan when my fingers slip inside her.
She drags her nails down my spine, tilting her hips into my hand like she has something to prove. “You’re trouble.”
“And you,” I say, kissing her again, “are so fucking pretty when you fall apart for me. One more time before we have to leave.”
Chapter 18
Izzy
My house feels too quiet when I walk through the door.
I drop my keys on the counter, kick off my shoes, and stand in my dark living room. Tonight’s author event was a success. Sales have been strong, customers are happy, and I can barely keep up with restocking the shelves. The numbers are finally moving in the right direction. I might actually be able to pull off the expansion. But right now, I’m exhausted.
The bad news is my mother stopped by the shop and hinted she’d need money for rent again before she lectured me on running a bookstore. She doesn’t like my displays. The books are too expensive. And apparently, I’m wasting my time making bookmarks and totes for the shop.
I smiled through all of it because that’s what I do. I learned long ago that it’s easier to go along with her than fight. But I’ve been slowly unraveling on the inside for years now, and I don’t know how much more I can take.
I pull my phone from my purse. Three missed calls from my mom.
Nothing from Jack. It’s been five days since I wokeup in his bed, and he’s been on the road ever since. He’s flying back to Boston tonight.
The sting of disappointment catches me off guard. I wanted to hear his voice before he got on the plane. Which is new. And terrifying.
A shower. That’s what I need. A bad day, a long day, a confusing day can always be solved with a shower.
The bathroom mirror fogs over as I turn the water as hot as I can stand it. I step under the spray and close my eyes, drop my shoulders, feel my body begin to melt under the heat beating against my skin.
Everyone always needs something.
When was the last time someone just wanted me? Not for what I can do or handle or solve? Justme.
I’m doing a shitty job keeping business separate from pleasure. Those lines blurred real fast between Jack and me. But god, I’m tired of being careful and doing the right thing all the time.
When the water cools, I brace myself for the cold air of the bathroom and step out. As much as I want to crawl into bed, I promised Peyton I would wash Luca’s clothes for her when he slept over last night. And then, because I’m basically the mouse from that kid’s story, I’ll do laundry and stumble upon a whole list of things demanding my attention. If you give Izzy laundry, then Izzy will order more detergent because she’s running out. If you give Izzy the internet, she’ll find a new book to read. If she finds a new book to read, she’ll remember all the bills she has to pay…
I slip on a T-shirt and sleep shorts. I’m brushing my hair when a knock at the door makes my stomach drop. I toss the hairbrush aside and yank on a hoodie.
It’s almost one in the morning.
“Izzy. It’s me.”
Jack.
I pad through the living room, unlocking the deadbolt with shaking hands, and pull open the door.
Jack is standing on my front porch, his duffel slung over his shoulder. He’s still in his suit, even if his tie’s gone and the collar’s open. His hair is sticking up in about six different directions, but he looks at me like I’m the only thing keeping him upright.
“What are you?—”
“Can I come in?” He doesn’t move, waiting for me to answer. “I couldn’t go home when all I wanted was to be here. With you.”
