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I hadn’t pressed him on it when I’d arrived at the apartment, flowers in hand like a dope. I also hadn’t heard from her since earlier in the afternoon, but her last text left me reeling.
That text.I didn’t have any idea what it meant until I searched the phrase and the immediate results were some not-safe-for-work fan art involving paint and references to “big wingspan energy.” I had absolutely no idea what I was looking at, but it was enough to raise my blood pressure. That was the kind of stuff she was reading? It made my Tom Clancy look G-rated.
“You talked to Vic?” She sounds surprised, and I feel a rumble of laughter in my chest.
“Well, no, he said that before you got here. I already had the flowers at that point.” She smiles, her thumb running along the edge of my hairline. “You’ve got quite the band of suitors here for you.”
She snorts.
“Vic and Kyle are more apt to court you than they are me.” I think on that. Vic, I suspected. Kyle, not so much.
“And Dylan?” Almost imperceptibly, she freezes, and then lets out a long sigh, twisting so she’s facing me. Before I can stop myself, I get a full view of her chest, encased in that light purple bra that’s embellished with gold embroidery along the edges. I have to force myself to look at her face, which is crinkled in thought.
“Dylan and I…” She pauses. So there was a Dylan and her. “Are not like that. Not anymore.” She watches my face as my eyebrows shoot up, and almost immediately she grins, laughing. “You don’t have anything to worry about, Fitz. That ship sailed a long time ago.”
“But there was a ship?” Her head bobs back as she looks up at me, nodding. “How long ago?”
“Does it matter?”
Does it? I mean, to me, yes. Probably some latent knee-jerk reaction to the flaming ending of my last relationship. But this wasn’t a relationship, was it?
I step back, giving her space as I answer. “I don’t know.” The words are meant as an answer for myself, too, but they’re the wrong ones to say, because hurt flashes in her eyes and she lets out a shallow breath before turning back to the bed, searching again in the clothes.
“It clearly does, or you wouldn’t be asking,” she says without looking back at me. Piper seems to find what she’s looking for, because she throws a long sleeve sweater over her head before turning around, not making eye contact as she strides toward the bathroom. “For your information, anything Dylan and I had ended with a post-coital emotional breakdown on my wedding anniversary last year.” I recoil at both her honesty, and the mental picture it paints as she flips the light on aggressively, and leans forward over the counter, rubbing at her eyes in the mirror.
“I’m sorry,” I say, meaning it, but her head snaps toward me, and her face tells me she’s not convinced. This conversation turned very, very quickly.
“Are you, though?” She turns back to the mirror, observing herself. “I mean, Fitz, we’re not even dating.” Her words make my chest pang, but she continues. “I talk to you more than I talk to Alex, but you can’t even trust me when I say there’s nothing to worry about.” She flips the light off and emerges from the restroom, closing the door behind her and leaning against it, watching me. I cross my arms, more out of discomfort than anything, and she raises her eyebrows at the motion.
“I appreciate you stopping by, but even you said that you didn’t want to rush things. I think this,” she gestures between us, “is the definition of rushing things.” I gather that she means more than just me seeing her half naked, and watch as she steps toward the bedroom door. “I’m not about to define the relationship with someone I haven’t even been on a date with.”
Her hand turns the doorknob, and I know the conversation is over. I stuff my hands in my pockets and walk toward her, stopping just short of the door and looking her in the eye.
“I do trust you, Piper.” I mean it. In the short time that I’ve been getting to know her, I trust her eons more than I think I ever trusted Olivia. Piper wears her heart on her sleeve, like Frannie and Freddy, and that openness puts me at ease around her in the same way it does around them.
I lean down and press my lips to hers in a hard kiss, which I’m thankful she returns, her soft mouth moving against mine. I hope that kiss says everything I need it to as I walk out of her apartment, eyes on me the entire way.
Chapter 19
Piper
Five Years Ago
Istareddownatmy ripped cuticles, hands spread on my thighs as somewhere off in the distance, I heard the latestMission Impossiblemovie coming from the TV.
Shelby, my favorite nurse on this extended hospital visit, shuffled into the room, and I looked up to see her pale eyes scanning the faces around me.
Melissa and Zander were planted firmly in uncomfortable chairs on the other side of Mickey’s bed - Melissa with her head close to Mickey’s, where she was undoubtedly whispering sweet nothings about his daughter and her mother.
Penny, in the seat next to me, pretended to read on her tablet, but was really watching the other two like a fucking hawk.
And me, zoning off and looking at my hands, because I didn’t sleep a minute the night before, knowing that Melissa and Zander were coming back from their hotel first thing and I’d have to endure their company. Endure this.
On my birthday, no less.
No warning, they just texted when they were halfway here from Paulsville, saying they were coming to see Mickey (for the first time in months). Maybe his recent seizure had scared Melissa. It scared me, driving to his chemo appointment when he started convulsing in my front passenger seat.
We had plans for the night - even though Mickey was half out of it, he had enough wherewithal to agree with my mother in bringing a cake up to the hospital and enjoying dinner here, like we had on our wedding night. Making another memory surrounded by the smell of disinfectant and scrambling to find enough places for all of us to sit. I realized in the last few days that it was likely the last birthday I’d get to share with Mickey, with his health rapidly declining. The thought made my bones ache.
