Chapter 28

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Lola

Piper and I have spent a lovely Christmas together.

We’ve eaten our weight in junk food while watching episodes of her favorite television series I secretly love too. We laughed, talked, and laughed some more.

It’s not the Christmas I would have planned, but it’s turned into the most perfect day. It’s been lovely spending the most magical day of the year with the person I love most in the world.

Smiling at Piper, who is all curled up in a ball and sleeping soundly, I move with the stealth of a black panther and slide off her sofa to switch the television off, then cover her with a blanket.

I turn off the lights and leave her to sleep.

Piper is always telling me how she worries about me, but I worry about her just as much. She works long hours in the gallery and spends five nights out of seven at the gym. She hasn’t had a vacation in two years. Today, tomorrow, and New Year’s Day will be the only days she will allow herself to take off. She’s a workaholic and hides herself away in her gallery. I know she only does that because throwing herself into work is a far better option than facing reality. Completely alone in this world, a bit like me, she’s a little lost and unsure of where she fits in.

Lost souls together, I’m happy we have each other. She might not be my blood sister, but she sure feels like she is.

I point to Piper’s cats. “Behave. And please don’t kill me in the night.” Banksy wags his tail as if confirming that he won’t, but I don’t trust him and I swear he made Raphael pee in my purse the last time I stayed over. Fucking psychotic ringleader.

My phone on silent, it vibrates in my hand, and I pray it’s not Graham texting from yet another random number, which he’s not done since this morning. Thankfully.

Relieved to see Jordy’s name, I reply instantly to his text asking if he can call me.

Me:

Yes, Piper is fast asleep. Carb overload. Far too much pizza.

I’ve had too much myself and need an early night.

Jordy calls me as soon as he receives my reply. I hit accept and press my phone to my ear. “Mr. Miller.”

Walking into Piper’s guest bedroom, her huge comfortable bed calls my name. I slide under the comforter and pull it up under my chin.

“Ms. Ramsay. I want to see your face. Can we FaceTime?”

“Yes.” I remove my phone from my ear and hit the video button.

It doesn’t even get a chance to ring once, and Jordy accepts the call. His handsome face fills my screen.

“Hey, baby.”

“Hey, Wingman,” I reply.

He’s at home and sitting on his sofa. The television commentary in the background is a dead giveaway about what he’s doing. “Are you watching the football game?”

“It’s finished. I was just watching the commentators talking post-game shit.” He puts his phone down and I stare at a view of the ceiling for a second before his face comes back into view again. “I've propped my phone up with a cushion so I can see you better.” He sits up, his naked torso clear to see as he picks up what looks like his sketchpad and pencil lying on the sofa.

“Why are you already in your pajamas and in bed? It’s still early.”

“I’ve been in my pajamas all day.” I turn over onto my side and prop my phone up with a cushion the same as him.

Tucking my hands under my cheek prayer style, I confess, “I haven’t even had a shower.”

“Dirty girl.”

“Only for you.”

His dark eyes stare down the camera. “You look beautiful tonight.”

He tells me I’m beautiful all the time. Sometimes he’ll catch me off guard with his surprising words, like now. Other times, they make me feel warm and glowy inside, but most of the time, he makes me feel seen. It boosts my self-esteem and causes excitable butterflies to dance in my stomach, turning my insides to goo.

“I haven’t washed my face today.”

“You’re a Christmas rebel.”

“Piper decided we were doing and eating whatever the hell we wanted today. Are you sketching?” I ask as his hands move back and forth across his sketchbook.

“I am.”

“Can I see?”

“Not until it’s finished.” Tilting his head to the side, he looks at me and drops his attention to his sketchbook as if immersed in his art.

Every one of Jordy’s paintings oozes skill and emotion. For a big strong guy, the lines he paints are elegant and gentle. The colors he mixes, just right, every brush stroke he paints against the canvas is delicate yet bold, textured but soft and bursting with energy. Deliberate.

In my opinion, he’s a natural artist. Untrained, he’s gifted.

“How was Christmas dinner?” I ask.

Did you speak to Sienna, play footsie under the table, make plans to see her while she’s home, are you still in love with her, did seeing her again stir up any old feelings?

I have so many questions.

I’ve been desperate to text him all day. I hate how much I care. And I hate that Sienna got to spend the day with him and not me.

Jealousy is not a feeling I’m familiar with, but it’s been crawling under my skin, reminding me just how much I wish I had been the one by his side today.

“Sitting through a lecture on tax laws would have been more entertaining,” he drawls, and I stop myself from chuckling. He adds, “I’ll answer what you haven’t asked though, because I can see that little worry line between your brows getting deeper.”

I give it a quick rub, annoyed that he often lives inside my head. “It’s not.”

“You’re a shitty liar.” He looks straight at me. “Sienna is moving back to Canada. She lost her job in LA.” He talks fast. “She never went into too much detail, but I sensed something was off with her explanation. My mom and hers dropped lots of obvious comments about us getting back together.” He sighs. “They did a shitty job of playing matchmakers. It’s not happening. Not ever. I felt nothing for her today.”

That makes me feel a hell of a lot better and I relax further into the mattress.

“Is it weird that I don’t feel anything for Graham anymore?” It’s been over a week since I left him, and if he didn’t call me insistently, I wouldn’t even think about him. It’s like he’s fallen out of my head. Although I would have much preferred pushing him off a cliff into a deep ravine.

“I think it’s fully justified. The weight of his betrayal is heavier than the love you once had for him. Closure for you came when you decided not to press charges. It allowed you to let go and move on. The mind is brilliant sometimes.” His genuine smile makes me smile back. “Without being too big headed, I’m the real reason that helped you forget him. My dick is fucking magic, baby.”

He was right when he said he would fuck Graham out of my system. Mentally, Jordy has made himself at home, filled his nightstand with his personal belongings, and doesn’t have an exit plan.

I’m more than happy about it. He can stay for as long as he wants.

“It’s all down to you,” I confirm.

“I knew it.” He cheekily winks at me, then adds, “Thinking about calling you tonight helped to get me through the awkward day with my ex.”

“Well, I hate to tell you this, but I had a lovely day.”

“I’m so jealous, and you said you had pizza?” he asks, sounding shocked.

I’m stuffed. “Lots of it, onion rings, and fries.” I rub my stomach, then let out a loud yawn. I really could do with an early night. My life has been hectic lately.

“Are you tired, Teacup?”

“Very.”

My eyes heavy, I yawn again, my low-pitched, breathy exhale drawing his attention.

“You should go to sleep.”

“I sleep better when you’re next to me.” Something I told him the first night we slept together. He says it’s the same for him too.

It’s as if his presence makes me feel whole and vice versa.

Like home.

“I’m here now. I’ll stay on the call until you fall asleep, baby.”

I blow him a kiss and give in. “Merry Christmas, Wingman,” I mumble, half-asleep.

“Merry Christmas, baby.”