Chapter Thirty
Ailee
Two weeks later, my face heats as I scarf down my breakfast. Something’s definitely been up with Josh since the dinner at his parents’ place.
Thankfully, the dealer finally replaced my fob, so I leave the house as soon as I finish eating.
It’s either that or jump him or do something seriously inappropriate.
Hopefully I was subtle. I tried really hard to avoid staring.
You’re a beautiful person who deserves everything you desire.
Two weeks since he said it, and I’ve been going a little crazy because my heart won’t quit racing every time it pops into my head—which is every time I see him, whether it’s in the office or at home.
If I didn’t know better, I might’ve thought he was trying to…well, court me. A homemade breakfast. The display of his magnificent body. The gray sweatpants and that outline…
I fan myself, trying to come up with an alternate explanation. Josh was probably just being comfortable in his house. He’s entitled to chill on weekends, including going topless. Right?
Yeah, your exes only did that when they wanted to get lucky, an internal voice reminds me.
But Josh wasn’t aiming for any horizontal action.
Because a kitchen’s more suitable for vertical action. Like against a counter. Or bent-over action over a counter. Or the brace-your-hands-against-the-counter-and-stick-your-ass-out…
Okay, now the voice sounds awfully like Max. I’m definitely muting it.
I tap the steering wheel as I drive to Target.
The insurance is taking its sweet time with the claim I filed, and the same thing with the property manager, who likely wants to hold on to our security deposit as long as legally possible.
At least Max and I aren’t in urgent need of a place.
She’s still being dragged around the world by her boss, and she texts me from time to time to whine, swearing she’s going to quit as soon as she finds a position that pays as well as her current one.
I frown, wondering about the roommate situation when she’s finally back in town.
Should I continue to share a place with her and pay half the rent?
After all, I’m going to need to have to move out in about six months—actually less than that now.
Max and I get along great, and I’d hate to leave her high and dry.
And having to struggle to find a new roommate when the engagement is over seems… overwhelming.
I park my car in the lot and head inside the huge store.
Josh’s place has everything I need, so I’m just here to browse the books.
This location is one of my favorites because it has a great selection of romance novels.
I love reading on my phone and Kindle, but sometimes I just want the heft of a print book in my lap.
Plus, the reading nook in my room is so perfect, I have this yen to curl up with a nice special edition and lose myself in the story.
That should give me something to occupy my time, instead of drooling over the memories of Josh’s abs or thinking about what to do about a new apartment.
One of the nicest things about living with Josh is that I don’t have to do any housework.
No cleaning, no laundry, no grocery shopping or cooking.
I didn’t realize until I no longer had to do any chores how much time those things take up.
But that also means I have way too much idle time to obsess about him.
I still can’t get used to wearing his ring.
I love how elegant and stunning it is, but it just seems too perfect to be on my finger.
It’s the opposite of how I felt about Chad’s ring—not a bad item, and my hand was good enough for it.
I pick up a book that has a black cover with elaborate gold filigree.
Some kind of mafia arranged-marriage romance.
Do mafiosos do arranged marriages all the time?
Wonder what that’d be like—marrying a man you’ve never met.
Or aren’t even sure you’ll like. At least in romance novels, you’re guaranteed to get a gorgeous guy who knows his way around a woman’s body.
“That’s a great story,” comes a familiar voice. “I read it last week and loved it.”
I spin around. “Zoe! How are you?”
“I’m good.” She hugs me, then checks me out, as though to make sure I’m really okay. “How about you? Did you find a new apartment after the fire?”
“I’m doing well. I actually moved in with my”—I clear my throat—“fiancé.”
“Good for you! Glad it worked out. Is he treating you well?”
I remember our weekend scrambled eggs. And how his muscles go taut over his gorgeous frame as he moves around the kitchen. “Very.” My voice is a little hoarse.
“I’m glad. Got time for coffee or something? My machine broke this morning, and I haven’t had anything yet. Of course, it had to break on a Saturday, when the office is closed.”
I gasp with sympathy. “That’s positively criminal.” I gesture in the direction of the café across the street. “Let’s head over there. I can come back for the book later.”
“I don’t mind waiting.”
“No. Coffee is more important.”
“You’re the sweetest.” She smiles winsomely, her blue eyes crinkling. Still, she refuses to leave without me getting the book first, and I can’t say no. There’s something oddly maternal about the way she treats me that tugs at my heart.
Upon arriving at the café, Zoe gets a hot cappuccino and I get an iced Americano, hoping it cools me down more before I drive home. “Want some syrup?” she says, gesturing at the sweeteners.
“Sure.”
She hands me one, and I pour it into the cup.
“This might sound strange, but I could have sworn you had a diamond ring,” Zoe says as we sit down and sip our coffee. “I have a nearly photographic memory,” she adds. “But now I’m wondering if I’m just imagining things after the fire…?”
“Oh no, you’re not.” I look down at the sapphire and smile. “It was diamond, but…”
“What happened to the heirloom ring?” She picks up my hand and studies the sapphire ring with keen interest. “I wish my husband had proposed me with something that sentimental. Perhaps then our marriage would’ve lasted.” A wispy regret fleets through her blue eyes.
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.” My voice softens. “Well…the fact is, that ring was, you know, technically an heirloom…but it really wasn’t that special, trust me. This one is much better. And it’ll become much more sentimental, too.” I tilt my hand toward her.
“Very tasteful. I’m sure it will.” She nods with approval, then squeezes my hand before letting go. “It suits you perfectly. Your fiancé must have great taste. You should introduce us one of these days.” She flashes a charming smile.
“He does, and of course, I’d be happy to. You’ll love him. He’s fantastic.”
Her smile broadens. “I’m sure I will. By the way, have you gotten your deposit back?”
“Not yet. You?”
She shakes her head. “They’re taking their time. Probably collecting interest on our money.” Her mouth twists cynically.
“I’m sure they’ll wait the entire twenty-one days.” When she looks at me blankly, I add, “That’s the legally mandated deadline.”
“Ah.” She nods. “I’m in a support group for the fire victims. Are you in it too?”
“No. Didn’t know there was one.”
“It’s on Facebook. I’ll invite you, if you want.”
“Sure. I’d love that!”
She texts me the group invite, then leans forward. “By the way, did you see the news this morning?”
“A little bit of it. Why?”
“They caught the arsonist.”
“Somebody set our building on fire on purpose?”
“Yup. A kid. Only seventeen.”
“Oh my God. Why?”
“He supposedly wanted to create a new challenge people could do and post online.”
A new— The explanation is even more ludicrous than I imagined. I was lucky because, despite having lost everything in the fire, I had Josh. But what about people who have no one to come to their aid? “What was he thinking?”
“He claims—although it didn’t sound like it was verified—that someone promised to give him a thousand dollars if he could do it.
The security footage the cops got shows the kid starting the fire, but nothing of this supposed other person.
” She shrugs. “He probably made it up when he got caught. Trying to shift the blame or something. Anyway, according to the kid, the fire wasn’t supposed to spread.
It was just supposed to burn a little, and then he was going to put it out, but his fire extinguisher malfunctioned. ” Zoe rolls her eyes.
“His lawyer should’ve advised him to shut up.” Josh would have.
“Probably. But some people just think they’re too clever for the police.”
“What a fool.” The kid’s life is basically ruined, and all over a stupid internet challenge.
We gossip some more until Zoe gets a call and has to go to handle some kind of personal emergency.
I wave her goodbye, then head back home.
The traffic’s sort of crappy. Although it was sunny in the morning, dark clouds are slowly forming in the sky.
I check the weather app at a red light—rain is expected in the afternoon.
Crap. Better get back before the roads get slick. I love watching rain, but hate driving in it. The roads get too slippery, visibility drops and people in Southern California drive like idiots. And if there’s an accident, the traffic becomes impossible.
The clouds have spread over almost the entire sky by the time I drive through Josh’s gates about an hour later. For some reason, my heartbeat starts to accelerate.
I clench and unclench my hands around the steering wheel as I kill the engine in the garage. Leaning my head against the headrest, I breathe at a steady pace, willing my heart to settle. Instead, it only beats faster, almost like I’m having a mild panic attack.
Did the update about the fire upset me more than I expected? Hard to believe—my reaction seems too over the top.
Calm down, Ailee. Think of something soothing. Like an ocean.