Dove grins and shifts in closer. “Sorry,” she drops her voice. “I just love to watch him throw a temper tantrum. It’s like when you accidentally step on a cat’s tail and the cat puffs up ten sizes and it makes thosepft-pft-pft!noises.”
“Step-daughter problems?”
“Suchstep-daughter problems. Also. Let me just…” She reaches out, pinches two fingers to the bridge of my nose, and pulls away, as though she’s removing invisible glasses, “…take off these sex-goggles for a second. You have to think about this clearly. It doesn’t have to all be about…sex and squirting. Obviously, what you and Phantom had was intense and passionate and hot. But what do youwantout of a relationship?”
I frown. “I don’t know. I think that’s the problem. Iwantedto get married…start a family. I was ready for that. Or…I thought I was. But now…” I look down at the profile Dove picked out. I try to imagine myself with this man, but my imagination hits a wall. I shake my head. “I’m going solo. No more Phantoms. No more Brodys. No sex, no playing at the club, I’m just going to…do yoga and eat yogurt and work on myself.”
“I’m in,” Dove says.
“Oh, no,youdon’t have to?—”
“Of course I do. We’re in this together.” She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “You hear that, Dorian? We’re going celibate.”
“Great.” He turns the page of his book. “Un-Freaky February. Love it.”
My throat goes tight.
It’s stupid. Silly. And I know she’s notactuallygoing to keep her hands off her boyfriend, but it means a lot, knowing no matter what I’m going through…I don’t have to do it alone. Not with Dove around. “I love you,” I tell Dove, meaning it.
“I love you more.” She gets up and kisses the top of my head. “You’re going to get through this. I promise.”
We finish our coffees, toss the mugs in the sink, and the two of them leave to go enjoy brunch. They invite me, but I pass, claiming I need to practice for my audition. Idohave an audition, but it’s not until the afternoon, and I don’t really need to practice. I just need time to gather my thoughts.
I pull up my messages with Phantom. It’s time to lay down the law. Set boundaries.
[Text: Ophelia]
Stop breaking into my apartment.
There. Sent. That should get the message across.
My phone buzzes not a minute later.
[Text: Phantom]
Stop leaving your window unlocked.
[Text: Phantom]
Really.
[Text: Phantom]
Lock your window.
I frown. This is not the apology I was looking for.
Bullheaded ass.
[Text: Ophelia]
That’s not your concern anymore.
[Text: Phantom]
You’re always my concern.
Ignore the way that message makes your heart do a flip and your thighs squeeze together.
