27. Sunny
“ A va and Dex have Steamy Sex in Saint-Tropez.”
It’s a gloomy Monday morning and I’m at work, taking a quick break from legal research to browse news stories on my computer, when I see the headline.
I barely make it to the bathroom before I throw up.
I can’t shake the image from my mind. Ava Elwood’s long legs, wrapped around the love of my life, while he’s fucking her.
I have no right to be upset—I know that.
I’m the one who broke up with him.
And now he’s with the most beautiful woman in the world. I shouldn’t be surprised. This is why I let him go. If he can have Ava Elwood, why the hell would he ever want me?
No, Ava and Dex belong together. She’s the epitome of perfection, exactly like him. And who am I?
I’m just Sunny.
I know that I shouldn’t compare myself to her, or put myself down.
That I’m beautiful in my own unique way—blah, blah, blah.
I’ve read every self-help article I could find about knowing your worth and getting over your ex.
Unfortunately, none of these tips are tailored to my particular situation.
Maybe someday, I’ll write a post myself: “Seven Ways To Keep Insecurity at Bay When Your Famous Ex is Screwing the Hottest Supermodel on the Planet.”
Dex has been photographed with gorgeous women plenty of times before now, but always doing something pretty innocuous, like sipping coffee—which I could easily brush off as nothing more than a friendly meeting.
But the pictures with Ava are different. They’re kissing . He has a towel wrapped around his waist. His arms wrapped around her . She’s topless, for god’s sake. There’s no room for interpretation here.
They’re sleeping together.
If there’s any silver lining at all, I guess this means I don’t have to feel guilty for spending so much time with Jeremy anymore.
Nothing’s happened between us—yet.
But…I think he might love me.
He pretty much told me so, the other night.
We’d been out for drinks with his colleagues, and one of the junior partners ordered us several rounds of shots. Jeremy didn’t want me taking a cab home alone in my condition, so we ended up crashing at my place.
We were both so drunk, we collapsed onto my bed, hoping that if we closed our eyes, the room would stop spinning. And before I fell asleep, I’m sure I heard him say something to me.
I know I did.
“Sunny?” he whispered. “I think I might love you.”
When I opened my eyes and turned to him, he was passed out .
It’s been three days, and I haven’t brought it up. But there’s definitely something happening between us.
It started two months ago, the night he kissed me on the cheek before I got in my cab.
Since then, instead of meeting at our favorite bar after work most nights, we started going to his place or mine, instead.
We order food, watch TV. He puts his arm around me.
I lean on his shoulder. Let my knees fall against his.
Sometimes he massages my neck, or combs his fingers through my hair while I run mine through his.
When we’re hanging out at my place, he’ll usually head home around midnight.
But when we’re at his, he always wants me to stay so he doesn’t have to worry about me getting home okay.
He offers me his room, and he sleeps on the couch.
And while I’m wrapped in his sheets, I find myself thinking about the things he does with the women he brings to his bed.
And up until now, I’ve felt guilty. Guilty that I can no longer deny that there is something more than friendship between me and Jeremy.
I didn’t want Dex to be right. I didn’t want to have to tell him that our story ends the way he predicted—with me choosing Jeremy.
But none of that matters now. Dex is with Ava Elwood. They’ll probably get married. Start a family.
They’ll have the most gorgeous children.
Dex and Ava make sense.
Just like Jeremy and I do. We live in the same city.
We have the same job. We want the same things out of life.
He can’t wait to save up enough money to buy a house.
And the other day, he mentioned how much fun he thought it would be to take his kids to a baseball game.
He’s always saying things like that. We’re a perfect match.
And from now on, I can spend all the time I want with him, guilt-free. Whatever happens between us, happens.
Jeremy’s on a work trip this week, assisting a partner with depositions for a case in Wisconsin, so I have to wait until Friday to see him.
When I get to his apartment, I’m already two glasses of wine ahead of him because I needed to drink while getting dressed, to soothe my nerves.
I’d left work at 6:00 p.m., earlier than I usually do, and gone home to wash and blow-dry my hair, which I’ve continued to wear straight since Paris.
After my shower, I put on jeans—and a wrap sweater for easy access.
Just in case.
The wine must not have helped, though, because I’m still nervous as hell walking into Jeremy’s place. My mind is swirling with what-ifs.
What if I sleep with him tonight?
What if the sex isn’t good?
What if it is?
What if I’m delusional, and Jeremy doesn’t actually want me at all?
What if Dex breaks up with Ava, and he comes begging for me?
What happens then?
“I wasn’t sure if you’d want Mexican or Thai, so I ordered both,” Jeremy says. “I know how much you love Middle Eastern, but we had it twice last week, so I figured you might be tired of it.”
He can’t see me because he’s in the kitchen, opening bags of takeout while I take off my shoes by the door. So I close my eyes and take a deep breath in an attempt to clear my head before I join him.
“Well, I can never get enough Middle Eastern food,” I say as I’m walking into the kitchen to survey the spread on his countertop. “But everything you ordered looks delicious. This is a lot of takeout, though.”
Jeremy shrugs. “We’ll have leftovers for tomorrow. Do you know what you want?”
I nod. “Thai.”
“Good,” he says, like there was only one right answer to his question. “Me too.”
Jeremy pours us two glasses of Riesling as I fill our plates. Then we sit on his couch. He turns on the TV, and we decide on one of those home renovation shows. While we watch, we talk about our workweeks and eat our noodles, taking occasional sips of wine.
I only make it through half my meal. I hardly have an appetite, and my mind is still busy, so I put down my plate, hoping more wine will help drown out my thoughts.
“You okay?” Jeremy asks, nodding toward my leftover pad Thai. “You didn’t eat much.” He doesn’t look at me, and I can tell something’s weighing on him.
Just like it’s weighing on me.
I take a sip from my glass, then turn to him. “Did you see the headlines this week? ”
Jeremy sets his food down. “About Mr. Hollywood and his new girlfriend? Yeah,” he says gruffly. “I figured you’d be pretty devastated.”
His eyes are narrowed. His brow is furrowed. His jaw is clenched.
He’s upset. He’s reacted this way the last handful of times I’ve mentioned Dex.
I put my wine on the coffee table. “I’m not here to cry on your shoulder, Jeremy. I’m done with that. But I do want to explain why I haven’t kissed you yet. Even though I really want to.”
His eyes soften, but he’s tight-lipped. He only nods.
I look down at my lap. “When Dex and I broke up, he asked me if I was…um, sleeping with you. He felt threatened by our relationship, even though he had nothing to worry about then. I honestly didn’t see you as more than a friend at the time. But…I do now.”
I glance over at Jeremy, who’s got his elbows propped on his knees and his hands clasped together. He’s looking down at the floor, just listening to me.
“In the past couple of months, you and I have gotten a lot closer,” I continue. “We spend almost all our free time together. We do everything that couples do, except…well, you know.” I take another sip of wine before I go on.
“I’m attracted to you, Jeremy. I didn’t let myself act on it before, because I didn’t want to hurt Dex.” I sigh. “But I don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
Jeremy gives me a sideways glance. Then, after several seconds, he micro-smiles. “You want to know why Anjali slept with the cardiologist?” He sits back against the couch cushions and turns to me. “She was pissed at me—because she found out I had feelings for you.”
My heart flutters. “Oh,” I say, biting my lip. “How’d she find out?”
Jeremy drags a hand down his face. “I made an asinine request one night, when I was drunk.” He looks down at the floor again.
“I, um, suggested we invite you to join us. In bed.” He looks back up at me.
“I mean, maybe she didn’t know I had feelings for you.
But she definitely knew I wanted to sleep with you. ”
I lift my wine glass to my lips, my cheeks blazing hot. “Smooth,” I tease before taking a sip. “But for the record…I’m not into that.”
Jeremy laughs. “Noted.”
I smile as I swirl my remaining Riesling. I feel bad for Anjali…but I can’t say I’m not also flattered.
I put my glass back down. “You wanted me, even back then? That was…eight months ago.”
Jeremy doesn’t shy away from my gaze. “Sunny, I’ve wanted you a lot longer than that,” he says as he reaches to put a hand on my knee. He traces slow circles on me with his thumb. “I knew I’d have to wait. But, I also knew it’d be worth it.”
That’s when our lips meet. Finally.
Me and Jeremy.
I can’t believe what an amazing kisser he is. His lips are so soft, and his tongue expertly flirts with mine, and his hands are in my hair, and he smells really good, and before I know it, he’s pulling me onto his lap to straddle him .
My brain feels warm and fizzy from the wine, but in the best way possible. I’m relaxed enough not to feel self-conscious, but also astutely aware of how incredible Jeremy’s hands feel on my body.
He’s wanted me for so long, and I sense it when he pulls me closer with every kiss and grips me with his fingers, kneading the flesh beneath my jeans.