“Sorry.” I face Eva and her face goes soft before she gives me a hug.
“I’ll see you soon.”
“Okay.” I take in a shaky breath when she lets me go then Janelle hugs me again.
When she lets me go Jace takes my hand in his and walks me to my door while his dad puts the trophy in the trunk.
“Hey.” He cups my cheek after I’m seated, and I meet his gaze.
“I’m alright,” I lie, and he gives me a soft smile that says he knows I’m lying, before touching his lips to mine and shutting the door.
When he gets in behind the wheel, I wave out my window to everyone watching us, then let out a long breath. It’s done. It’s all done, and now I don’t know what to do with myself, or even what to say to Jace. “Thank you for the orgasms and the week with your family” sounds beyond stupid, and there is no way I even want to talk about the money, because honestly, I don’t even want it anymore. And if he brings it up, I’m liable to throat-punch him.
Really, I feel like I need to take a few days to sort out my emotions with wine and lots and lots of ice cream.
“I want you to come home with me,” he says, breaking the silence that has settled between us, and I look over at him. “Or we could stay at your place, but since my house is closer to the office, the commute Monday will be easier.”
“You want me to stay with you?”
“Yeah.” He reaches over for my hand and wraps his fingers around mine.
“At your house in San Francisco?” I ask just to confirm.
“Yeah.” He laughs, glancing over at me while squeezing my hand. “Are you all right?”
Am I? I don’t know what’s happening, and I’m too chicken to ask him straight out, because damn if living in denial isn’t easier than him telling me that he just wants to sleep with me a few more times.
“Cupcake, you need to talk to me. I don’t know what’s going on inside your head, and I didn’t take the mind-reading class while I was in college.”
“I don’t have any clean clothes, and I need to check my mail.”
“All right, tonight, we’ll stay at your house, and tomorrow, we can head to mine after breakfast.”
“Okay,” I agree before I even know what I’m saying, because, like a glutton for punishment, I’ll take any opportunity I have to spend time with him consequences be damned.
Chapter 29
Denial is not a river in Egypt
With Jace right behind me, I put my key in the lock for my door and push it in after turning the handle. Switching on the light, I stand back as he carries our bags inside, then I close the door behind us and flip the night latch into place out of habit. Even though I slept on the plane while he worked, I’m still exhausted from traveling.
Or maybe I’m drained from the emotional roller coaster I went on today.
Either way, I want nothing more than to eat something, shower, and curl up in bed with him.
“This is cute.” He looks around, and I take in what I’ve seen every single day for the last six years. My small living room with a couch I got for a steal from Ikea, my entertainment center that holds all my prized history books along with the plants kids have gotten me over the years, and my TV. With the kitchen just steps away and divided by only a half wall, I know he can see my open-face cabinets and all the dinnerware I’ve purchased from flea markets around the city because I’ve been convinced more than once that I’ll get home and find out I own a cup or a plate that should be in a museum somewhere.
“Thanks.” I walk to my bedroom, which is just a few steps away, and flip on the light there before I kick off my shoes and take off the sweater I wore over my dress, tossing it onto the end of my bed.
When I walk back into the living room a minute later, I find him looking at some of the photos I have on the walls, and he smiles at me. When he told me that we would stay at my place tonight, I didn’t think about how weird it would be having him in my space amongst all my things.
“How long have you been living here?”
“Six years, give or take a few months.” I move to stand next to him, and with the ease of familiarity, he draws me in against his side, and I look up at him. “When I graduated from college, I moved in with my mom, but after I got a job, she told me that she was going to charge me almost triple what I would pay for a mortgage or rent anywhere else.” I laugh at the look he gives me. “I know it sounds like she was being harsh, but it was her way of forcing me to spread my wings. I needed it; otherwise, I would have lived with her forever, and she knew that.”
“So you have an issue with change?”
“No.” I frown at him. “I just….”
Darn, I do have an issue with change.
I hate change more than anything, which is why I stayed with my ex even when I knew he was a dirtbag. And why I haven’t moved over to the high school to teach history when it’s been a dream of mine, and why I haven’t done a dozen other things I’ve wanted to do over the years.
“That doesn't matter.” I walk to the kitchen, ignoring his quiet laughter as he follows, and I open the drawer where I keep the menus for the restaurants near me. “I moved in here, and I’m saving for a house that I will likely never be able to afford, because let’s be honest. I’m a teacher and have no way to pay a million-dollar mortgage in this area. But—” I look up at him. “—I will, however, have some money saved for when I retire one day, so there is that.”
“There’s that.” He walks up behind me and wraps his arms around my middle. “What are we eating for dinner?"
“Your choice. Chinese, Indian, pizza, or there’s a Subway just down the street. What are you in the mood for?”
“You.” He nibbles my neck.
“Chinese it is, since they deliver,” I say, and I feel his lips smile against my skin.
“Sounds good.”
Turning in his arms, I look up at him, and as his gaze roams over my face and that familiar soft look fills his eyes, I want to ask what he’s thinking, but fear keeps the question trapped in the back of my throat. “I should start laundry and run out to check my mail.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“You can order dinner for us.” I lean up, touching my lips to his, then scoot around him.
“What do you want?” he asks, pulling out his cell phone from his pocket.
“I don’t know. Surprise me.” I grab my suitcase from the living room and roll it into the kitchen, to the cabinet where my stackable washer and dryer are located. As I fill the machine, he places the call for dinner and is done by the time the washer is running. “Do you want to walk with me down to my mailbox?” I ask as I slip on a pair of the sandals I keep next to my door.
“Sure.” He shrugs, and I grab my keys from the table next to the door.
When we get outside, I wish I would have brought my sweater with me. The air has cooled since the sun set, and even if it’s not cold, I still feel the chill against my bare skin. Like he knows what I’m thinking, he wraps his arm around my shoulders and tucks me close to his body.