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If so, I’ll accept it. I have to. But I’m going to make sure she knows how I feel. How I’ll always feel, whether she chooses me or not.
And Steve Seaborn better hope he’s not with her when I tell her, because if she picks him over me, I might just clean his clock for the hell of it.
Chapter Nineteen
Stella
* * *
“Last time I got seven inches I enjoyed it more than this,” Claire cracks as she looks out my living room window.
Madison is getting buried by a Christmas Eve snowstorm. It’s been snowing since before sunrise and it’s still coming down, the airport closing to all inbound flights with a recorded seven inches of snow on the ground.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go to Jo’s?” I ask Claire for at least the fifth time.
It’s my first Christmas without my mom. Andrew and Val are spending it with Val’s family. Claire skipped her family Christmas to be here with me, which I appreciate, but I’m not much company. Jo invited us over for her big family’s celebration, which I know will be more festive than the wine, frozen pizza and movies Claire and I have planned.
“Are you kidding? This is great. I love frozen pizza and I haven’t had time to just chill and watch movies in forever.”
The cock pump business is booming for Claire. She travels a lot for work but calls me often and makes sure we spend time together at least once a month.
We’ve spent several of those weekends working on the house that used to belong to my mom but now belongs to me. Mom often talked about wanting to paint rooms and have flooring replaced, and I know she’d love the changes I’m making. I had all the carpet removed from the main level and replaced with hickory hardwood. Claire and I have painted the living room, two bedrooms and the main level hallways a light, neutral gray.
Once I finish with the flooring and painting, Sean is going to help me pick out furniture. He visited me for a long weekend in September and I told him the truth about me and Ben. We laughed a lot as we reminisced about our trip, Sean extra amused since I could be honest it.
Claire has been begging me to invite Cindy and Pervis to come for a weekend just so she can meet them, but there’s no way that’s happening. I’d probably wake up in the middle of the night with the two of them on either side of me in bed trying to sell me on a threesome.
“Is it a dick move to order delivery in this weather?” Claire asks. “I really want some crab Rangoon, and I’ll tip generously for it.”
“I guess if they’re taking orders it’s fine.”
“Solid. Do you want anything?”
“I’ll take an eggroll.”
Ten minutes later the two of us are sitting on the couch, tucked beneath blankets, starting Mean Girls, when the doorbell rings.
“Okay, that’s impressive,” Claire says, throwing her covers aside. “Maybe they deliver by sleigh or something.”
“I’ll top off our drinks.”
I pick up our glasses and go into the kitchen, setting them down next to the open bottle of red wine on the counter. Before I pick up the bottle, Claire calls my name from the front door.
“Do you need cash for a tip?” I ask, grabbing my purse from the counter and walking into the living room.
Everything stops when I see Ben standing in the living room, freshly fallen snowflakes sparkling in his hair. He’s a little leaner than he was in June, and his hair is a little longer. But his eyes—those blue eyes that give away his emotions—are the same. He’s feeling anxious right now, and suddenly I am, too.
“I’m going over to Jo’s,” Claire says, pulling on one of my snow boots by the front door.
“No, you don’t have to,” I say.
She puts up a hand. “There’ll be tons of great food there. You know where to find me if you need me.”
“You shouldn’t be driving.”
“It’s only a few miles, I’ll be fine.”
She throws on her coat and grabs her bag, giving me a meaningful smile before she dashes out the front door.
“Hi,” Ben says, tucking his wallet into his back pocket.
“Did you pay for our Chinese food?”
He shakes his head, a grin playing on his lips. “Claire made me show her my ID to prove I’m me and not Owen.”
I laugh because of course she did. Ben’s expression turns serious as he runs a hand through his hair, brushing the snow out of it.
“So...hey,” he says.
“Hey.” My heart races as I look at him, wondering what the hell he’s doing here after six months.
“I was scheduled to land early this afternoon but my flight got diverted to Des Moines. Which sucked because of my plan to come straight here and talk to you. I ended up renting a car and driving.”
