Josh pulled the bag out of my reach, effectively stopping my punches, and waited for me to look at him. “Don’t be fucking stupid. It took me all of half a second to pick up on the vibe you two put out at the library. Let alone the ice rink, the bar, you name it. So take your own medicine. Suck it up and swallow as much as Paisley can dish out for however long she needs to get her shit together. Don’t beg her, convince her. She’s not Anna, Jag. She’s not going to walk out on you.”
He might as well have punched me. I blinked. I hadn’t thought to compare the two women, but with the shit going on with Anna…yeah, it bled all over Paisley.
“You two girls done already?” Grayson asked, walking over. “I need a spot.”
“You go ahead. I need to find some knee pads.” I walked off the mat feeling like I’d dropped fifty pounds on it.
Now I only needed to convince Morgan to help me.
Chapter Sixteen
Paisley
9. Celebrate my twenty-first birthday.
This week’s breakfast had been exchanged for a Saturday night dinner, since Daddy had been TDY in Washington most of the week. The bad thing about dinner? There was no specific end time. Breakfast was simple, a little hey, I have to get to class, and I could escape. Dinner? Not so much.
I rinsed the last plate and slid it into the dishwasher. “That should do it for the dishes.”
“Swore he’d be home by six, today of all days,” Mama mumbled to herself.
“Oh, it’s no big deal. We both know he’d be here if he could. I’m really not mad.” It wasn’t the first birthday he’d missed, and it wouldn’t be the last. Luckily I was old enough to understand that the good of the many outweighed the need of a few.
“Well, can I take you to a movie or something?”
I stifled a smile. There was nothing Mama hated more than going to a movie theater. She ran for hills the first time her shoes came in contact with a spilled soda. “No, ma’am. This was just perfect.”
She gave me a soft smile. “It’s so nice to have you close.”
My cell phone alerted me with a text, and I dried my hands on the hanging towel. A quick swipe of my finger, and Jagger’s name appeared on my screen.
Jagger: A little mouse might have said that it’s your birthday.
I bit into my lower lip to keep from letting out a squeal of delight. Friends. We were friends again. That was the deal I’d offered, and I guess he was taking it. It didn’t matter that I wanted more. I would only hurt him—distract him—and I could never let that happen.
Me: It sure is.
Jagger: Want to go have a real 21st birthday?
Me: What makes you think I’m not already having a huge, mind-blowing party?
Jagger: Because you didn’t invite me, so it couldn’t possibly be a good party.
“Who’s making you smile like that?” Mama hung up her apron and turned her inquisitor eyes on me.
Dang it. “A friend, Mama.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
I ignored the tone of her voice. She knew something was wrong between Will and me, but I hadn’t told her we’d broken up. Since we’d spent over a week in Birmingham between scheduled and rescheduled tests, she’d let me off the hook. Well, at least until the results were in. Until then I had 143 days—and I was going to use every one of them.
Luckily, I’d Skyped into class, or my GPA would probably be circling the drain.
Me: Maybe I’m in the middle of a raging rave right now.
Jagger: Yeah, I heard your mom really knows how to throw down.
Me: How would you know?
The dogs barked a heartbeat before the doorbell sounded. “You have to be kidding me.”
Mama raised her eyebrows at me as she headed for the door. “Are you expecting company? It’s about time Will came around.”
“No, Mama—”
I made it to the entry hall when she opened the door. “Oh. Morgan. It’s lovely to see you.”
Wait. What? “Morgan?” Hopefully my voice didn’t sound as disappointed as I felt.
“There you are! Let’s go, birthday girl!” She tugged me out the door. I barely managed to grab my handbag off the entry hall table. “Nice to see you, Mrs. Donovan!”
“You too, dear. Lee…”
“Yes, I’ll take my meds!” I answered, laughing while I tried not to trip over my own feet as Morgan tugged me down the stairs. “Morgan, what on earth are we doing?” We skidded around the front porch, and I gasped as the driveway came into view. Lucy. Jagger.
He leaned against the yellow paint job, his baseball hat on backward, wearing jeans I wanted to peel off and a fitted Dropkick Murphys shirt. Just friends. No, I could not spontaneously lick his abs to see if he really tasted as good as he looked.
Then he smiled, and I remembered the urgent press of his lips with mine, the way he whispered my name. I swallowed and played my friends-only mantra through my head. “Jagger?”
“Get in, Little birthday Bird.”
Morgan skipped ahead of me and opened the back door, since I saw that Masters already occupied the passenger side. “Where are we going?”
“Does your list say anything about unexpected journeys?”
“I’m not a hobbit.”
He pushed off Lucy and walked toward me. A breath of space separated his hand from my cheek before he thought better of it and put it down. “Well, how about I promise that you can check a box off your list if you get in the car? If what I’ve got planned isn’t on it, then you pick something, and we’ll check it off.”