Princess Gator. Oh, and I mean it about bringing a coat that is functional. Connie would have my head if I let her daughter freeze to death.
The reply dinged as the kettle in the kitchen began to growl. Life in Los Angeles continued. And also, somehow, something else had begun.
Chapter Fifteen
GRACE
The silenceof working in the office on a Sunday was usually miraculous. No client calls demanding immediate attention. No partners barging in to throw their work at her. No chance of needing her spare suit to unexpectedly run to court.
Nope. Just silence. The perfect time to get work done. And Grace had plenty to do. But tonight, the silence was an echo chamber for all of her disjointed thoughts.
Grace was behind and drowning in guilt. And yet, she couldn’t keep her eyes on her computer screen. Despite having put her phone in her drawer to keep from picking it up every twelve and a half seconds, she found herself scrolling through photos again.
They’d only taken three, and one of them didn’t count because her mother had snapped it from so far away that it was just a blurry mess of dancing bodies. Why hadn’t they taken any selfies? Something clear and well lit so she could see Alix’s face. So she could indulge in her dimples whenever she felt like it.
Despite telling herself in no uncertain terms that she had to finish drafting a motion to suppress, Grace leaned back in herchair and stared at her favorite picture. Of course Miriam had taken it, probably to embarrass her, but Grace didn’t mind right then. Without her cousin being a little bit of a dick, she wouldn’t have the moment captured and hoarded on her phone.
Taken through the sliding glass door like a cheap private eye, Miriam had captured Alix laughing. Head thrown back and hair damp from dancing, dimples that could be seen from the moon. Standing across from Alix, Grace hardly recognized herself. She was grinning, her hand on Alix’s bare arm.
When she closed her eyes, she could still feel Alix under her touch. Her silken skin, warm and addictive. Grace craved it, which was weird because she’d never even really considered herself a high-touch person before. But she was alarmingly sure that she’d never get enough of Alix.
Grace was high again. Buzzing at the memory seared into her mind, her fingertips, her chest. God, she was pathetic. Every thought she’d had since Thanksgiving seemed to end in Alix. On the sound of her voice and the honey of her eyes and the way she’d looked in the pool.
Once she’d conjured the thought, she couldn’t dispel it. Couldn’t stop seeing the water droplet forming precariously on Alix’s full, dark lashes. The way her tattooed arms looked in the wet muscle tee that clung to her body. Her imagination barreled forward, filling in the blanks. Alix’s hands on her hips, pulling her in, the taste of her beautiful lips.
Groaning, Grace reached for her phone again. Maybe it was like an earworm. The only way to get Alix off her mind long enough to get anything done was to listen to the whole song. She went to her texts.
Despite only knowing each other a few months, they’d accumulated an insane number of messages. She went all the way back to the beginning. To Scissorsaurus and the River Styx, and an alarmingly easy intimacy they’d shared from the verybeginning. Their conversations had turned away from Kirstin and Julie more quickly than Grace had remembered.
They’d left the purpose of Breakup Buddies behind in favor of good-morning texts and photos of lunches and dinners. She scrolled through inside jokes and late-night conversations about nothing. Scrolled until she arrived at Alix’s clothing recommendations. Links to jackets and shoes and long underwear.
She laughed to herself. Alix was so concerned about a Miami girl in the snow. Grace loved the way Alix always thought about her. She was better as a friend than any girlfriend she’d had in her life.
“Figured you’d be here,” Ivy said, standing in the doorway holding two coffee cups and dressed for yoga.
Grace jumped, fumbling her phone and dropping it face down on a stack of deposition summaries. Her heart hammered against her ribs like it might escape having been caught fluttering.
“Jesus, Ivy. Trying to kill me?” Grace shrieked.
“That depends,” Ivy set a coffee on Grace’s desk. “Am I in your will?” She dropped into the seat across from her desk. “Why are you here on a Sunday night?”
“Why areyou?” Grace returned the question to give her nervous system a chance to reset.
“Asked you first.”
Grace playfully rolled her eyes and thanked Ivy for the coffee. “I have to file something in the morning, and I thought I might focus better here than at home.”
Ivy took a sip of her own coffee, her amber eyes sharp and missing nothing. “Uh-huh. And does focus usually involve you smiling at your phone like it just told you that you have a secret trust fund?”
A hot flush crept up Grace’s neck. “I wasn’t smiling.”
“That’s technically true,” she said with a smirk. “You were practically glowing.” She crossed her arms. “Spill. Who is she?”
Grace let out a long, slow breath and decided there was no point in lying to Ivy. Not about this part, anyway. She picked up her phone, her thumb hovering over the screen for a beat before she turned it around, showing Ivy the photo Miriam had taken.
With an exaggerated expression of surprise, Ivy snatched the phone for a closer look. “Well, hot damn. She’s gorgeous. And you look… happy.” Ivy looked from the photo to Grace, her gaze analytical. “Like, genuinely, non-court-mandated happy. Who is she?”
“Her name is Alix.” Grace’s stomach did an embarrassing little jig at the thought of her.
