“Nick won’t be there,” Heather adds. “He’s spending Christmas in Salem with friends.”
“Running away, like always,” Wren mutters under her breath.
“We’ll think about it,” I tell Heather. “Thank you for the invitation.”
After I hang up, Wren tugs me back into her arms. “We’re not going.”
“It’s Christmas.”
“And I plan to spend it keeping you in this bed,” she says, hand sliding to my breast, going straight for my nipple. “Maybe the couch. Definitely the kitchen counter.”
“Your family…”
“Chose Nick’s comfort over mine years ago,” she says, a flash of pain buried behind those glistening eyes. “They always do.”
“Tell me,” I say softly, turning to face her.
She hesitates, then exhales. “When I quit law school, they held an intervention. The whole clan—Mom, Dad, Nick, the aunts,the uncles—all telling me I was throwing my life away. That I’d never amount to anything fixing bikes.”
“That must have hurt.”
“What hurt was Nick leading the charge.” Her thumb brushes absently along my ribs, creating a path to my hip. “He knew why I was quitting. And he stood there, acting like I was some embarrassment to the family name.”
“Why were you really quitting?”
“Because I was dying inside. I was becoming someone I hated just to make them proud.” Her hand stills against me. “Because I realized their approval wasn’t worth losing myself.”
“And now?”
“Now I build something beautiful with my hands. I make enough to live on my own terms. And I have the woman I want in my bed.” She grins at me. “I’d say I made the right call.”
My phone buzzes again. Another text from Nick.“Answer your phone. We need to talk about this mistake you’re making.”
Wren’s expression darkens. “Mistake?”
Before I can stop her, she snatches my phone and hits call. Nick picks up instantly.
“Finally! Edie, you need to—”
“Not Edie,” Wren cuts in, voice steady steel. “And not amistake, you dick.”
“Of course you took her phone. Controlling, just like always.”
“Says the man who tracked her Starbucks app and counted up the calories.” Her tone is deceptively relaxed. “At least I let her be herself.”
“I tried to help her—”
“You tried tomoldher,” Wren snaps. “There’s a difference.”
“This is about revenge. Both of you are trying to humiliate me.”
I take the phone. “Not everything is about you.”
“She’s using you,” he insists.
“For what? Pissing you off? You made it clear you didn’t want me.”
“That’s not— I never said I didn’twantyou.”
