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Still, I want to make sure the kid knows I’m not trying to get rid of him. I don’t like the idea of Jamie thinking he’s getting passed around.
“I want to talk to Summer about it.” For some reason, I feel like I should be consulting her about this. Like she’s the teen’s mom or something.
My grandmother offers me a soft smile. “You found a good one in her.”
“Dad thinks so, too.” Of course, he also thinks I’m going to mess it up.
Don’t tell her about your past. She doesn’t need to know.
The selfish words whisper through my brain, and I cling to them like they’re some kind of wisdom. My eyes sneak toward the back door, wanting Summer to walk back through it and settle herself on my lap.
“She loves you. I can tell.”
The words rock through me, and I don’t know if my grandmother realizes how much pain they cause. It doesn’t matter what everyone else in the world thinks. I need to know from Summer. Hear those words from her lips.
Without them, I’m just waiting for the ground to crumble from underneath my feet.
Until she loves me, there’s always the chance she’ll leave.
Chapter Forty-Four
SUMMER
This is a quick visit. Just picking up a few things. No reason to bother Cole about it. No reason for him to even worry. It’s broad daylight for heaven’s sake.
I keep up the silent rationalizing as I get off at the bus stop a block from my apartment.
When I packed the first time, I was flustered, with no organized list of essentials, which means I missed some things. Like face wash. And tampons.
Sure, I could buy more, but why would I when I’ve already spent the money?
The cost seems especially extravagant when I consider how I’m paying rent on a place I’m not exactly living in anymore.
Not that I want to officially move in with Cole. Last week, I was able to imagine myself as a temporary occupant of his house. Someone in need passing through, like Jamie. But then Mama Al made her generous offer, and Jamie accepted with a blush and a pleased grin.
And now it’s just Cole and me, alone in his place. It seems important to have this apartment to come back to when things inevitably end between us.
“Ow,” I whisper out loud, rubbing at my chest. The thought of Cole and me being over hurts so much that I experience the stab of it as physical pain.
And I have to admit that maybe I’ve let myself get too caught up in this. Too comfortable. I’m relying on Cole. Trusting him. I find myself thinking about him at all times of the day.
There was the way he looked at me when he read that silly Valentine’s Day card.
And he keeps doing more things to make it hard to protect my heart.
Showing up at my conference.
Taking in Jamie.
Cuddling goddamn kittens!
And the way he writes…
Every week, I’m still eagerly reading the new chapter ofThe Seven Siblings. Even if the whole addition is a description of a gory battle scene, all I want to do afterwards is jump Cole’s bones.
The hazards of dating a writer.
Now that I’m living in his house, seeing him every day, everything is worse. And by worse, I mean torturously better. I thought cohabitation was supposed to strain a relationship.
