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Typically, I’d spend my days shopping or lunching or visiting the spa, but when I thought about doing any of that, it wasn’t as appealing as it used to be. So I called Birdie instead.
“Hey,” she answered. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I squinted up at the bedroom ceiling. “Are you settling into Washington all right?”
There was a pause, some shuffling around, and I heard someone in the background before Birdie answered. “Uh-huh, I’m fine.”
She sounded distracted, and it worried me. “Who’s with you?”
“I’m having lunch with Trouble.”
“She went with you?” I knew Birdie would get defensive if I poked too much, but this was news to me.
“Yes,” she answered. “I figured that it would be better if we stuck together.”
I choked down the jealousy her words provoked. I wanted Birdie to have a life and friends, but for so long, it had just been me and her. I couldn’t help the childish notion that I’d been replaced so easily. That was until she spoke again.
“I miss you,” she said. “It isn’t the same without you here to boss me around all the time.”
I laughed, and it felt good. “I miss you too, B. Are you staying out of mischief?”
“Yes, Gyps. I’m being good, I promise.”
Some of the tension in my body melted away as I fell back on the bed and wiggled my toes. “Lucian enrolled me in school.”
“Oh my God, seriously?” Birdie giggled. “If that isn’t irony, I don’t know what is.”
“It’s not funny,” I grumbled.
“It kind of is, actually. Considering how hard you pushed it on me.”
“Are you still going?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“Well, I guess we can both complain about it now.”
Birdie cleared her throat. “How is he treating you?”
I paused, not really knowing how to answer that. “Good. He has a bunch of rules that I hate, but otherwise, it’s not that bad.”
“Ace told me he’s a really good guy,” Birdie said quietly. “I wondered if it was true.”
“When did he tell you that?”
Another pause. “I asked him that night you made me leave with him.”
“Oh.”
“He hasn’t touched you, has he?” Birdie pressed.
A shiver moved through me as I recalled the feeling of Lucian’s body pressed up against mine. His fingers in my hair, his arm around my waist, and his beating heart so close to mine I could feel it. These weren’t the type of things she meant, and I couldn’t bring myself to admit that I’d allowed him to cuddle me every night.
“No, Birdie. He hasn’t.”
“That’s good,” she said. “’Cause you know I’ll kill him if he does.”
“That isn’t funny,” I whispered.
She was quiet then, and we both shook off the bad memories in our own way.
“I should go,” she mumbled. “I have to study.”
“Okay.”
“I love you, Gyps.”
“Love you too, B.”
“PASTA?”
Gypsy looked up from the plate I served her with confusion in her eyes. I didn’t have to guess what she was thinking. She was wondering what strings were attached. I suspected she would always wonder that, unless by some miracle I managed to establish legitimate trust with her.
“You earned it,” I told her.
“How?” she asked.
“You followed all the rules today, didn’t you?”
She offered me a bored expression because she didn’t want to admit that she had. I wasn’t naïve enough to believe that I’d tamed her. This was just the calm before the next storm, but we could both enjoy it while it lasted.
Gypsy dug into her pasta, and I watched her while I ate. I could already tell she was getting nervous. Tomorrow would be her first day in class, and I was certain she would invent some sort of imaginary plague so she didn’t have to go. But I was mentally prepared for whatever she might throw at me. I wanted her to face her fears, and I wouldn’t allow her to be conquered by them.
“You’re staring,” she mumbled.
I probably should have looked away. I should have read the paper, or checked my emails, or done anything else with my attention. But I couldn’t. I liked to look at her, a little too much, and that was becoming a problem.
I cleared my throat and set down my fork. “When you finish class tomorrow, I’ll need you to do your homework right away.”
“Why?” She peeked up at me with a mouthful of pasta.
“Because we have a work function to attend.”
Her brows pinched together. “What kind of function?”
“A picnic,” I griped.
She laughed. “You put on a picnic?”
“No. My partners do.”
“Ah.” She nodded. “Those must be the other names on the door. Vincent and Emily. I was wondering.”
“It’s a large firm,” I told her. “I like the private side of the building, but you’ll meet the everyone else tomorrow.”
“Can’t wait.” She snorted. “I imagine your office parties are all the rage.”
“They aren’t,” I assured her. “It’s just business.”
“It’s time to get ready for bed.”
Gypsy looked up from her magazine, her steely gaze staring right through me. “It’s only eight.”
