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By noon, I’m feeling more centered, and my stomach growls. We came home with leftovers last night, so I head to the kitchen. The whole fight—if you can call it that—seems silly now. I can talk about a lot of things. I rarely get speeding tickets. Breaking and entering would be a totally different manner.
I walk down the stairs thinking about my argument with Jon. Granted, it wasn’t a real argument. With the O’Bryans, especially this one, fights mean dramatic exits. I have a feeling rich people like the Howards don’t do that. And especially not Jon. He hates public scrutiny like I hate bras.
Still, I go back to that tiff. I heard the panic in his voice and saw his reaction. He was definitely freaked out about not being with me, which makes most of my anger fade. In the past, guys happily walked out the door. Yes, most of the guys I dated have been happy with a surface kind of relationship. Decent sex, some laughs, and everything was fine. I thought Jon would be the same way.
Of course, he’s difficult, but in the best way. No easy relationship with him. My heart clutches. I’m falling for a man who drove me insane just a few days ago. And it has nothing to do with the great sex. Okay, that’s a lie. That is part of it. I mean, itisthe best sex of my life. But there’s something else there when he’s holding me. And I have never been able to sleep with a guy next to me. I’ve found that being next to Jon eases my mind. The voices go quiet, and I can relax.
He does have a subdued sense of humor. I’m all circus clown kind of entertainment, but Jon can make a small joke about something with that serious look on his face and his eyes sparkling, and I just melt. And there is one other thing: Grannie Pam would have loved him.
Oh no.
I’m not falling in love with him. It’s just that I like his humor and his grumpiness. I also really like the way he is with the cats. Then there’s the fact that he could ignore his grandmother, but he doesn’t because he loves her. He doesn’t say it, but I know he does. He’s such a good man.
I am.
This is impossible. It’s been less than two weeks since I met him and only a few days since I stopped hating him.
What. The. Hell.
Me:How long was it before you knew you loved Mason.
Liv:Days.
Me:Days?!
Liv:If you ignore the months we were separated.
That makes sense. My sister met her man in Vegas, not knowing they would end up living next door to each other.
My phone rings, and I roll my eyes.
“What’s going on with you?” Liv demands.
“Nothing.”
“Are you sure? Your questions are weird.”
“It’s weird to ask you things about love?”
“Yeah. It is.”
I want to spill everything. Tell her I’m scared AF that I’m falling for Jon, that he will leave me like he always leaves women, and I will be even more broken.
The only problem is saying those words will make them more real.
“Just forget I asked.”
The doorbell rings at about the same time the microwave pings. For once, I’m happy to be interrupted. Talking to my sister about falling in love with my former nemesis makes me uncomfortable. Especially since it isn’t probably true.
“I gotta go. Someone’s at the door.”
The bell rings again.
“You hate answering the door.”
“Yeah, if it’s an LOL, she will keep ringing the doorbell. I’ve learned my lesson with those women.”
“Okay, but this discussion isn’t over.”
