Page 99 of Before You
“I could say the same about you, PP.” Marley sighs, the sound a gentle puff of air as she rests her head on my chest.
A short laugh escapes me. “I’m sorry, what did you just call me?” I ask, causing Marley to laugh as well.
“PP—short for Pillow Princess,” she explains through giggles, and I shake my head.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“So is the number of pillows you like to sleep with. We’re basically reclining, JJ.”
PP sounds like a bad dick joke. “Reclining into a cloud,” I correct, appreciating the lighter topic.
“Maybe if half of them weren’t intended to be used for decor, it would be like a cloud instead of an uneven lump of pillows,”Marley says and I feign a gasp, causing more of her laughter to fill the darkness.
“Take it back, sweetheart,” I warn, letting myself be in the moment instead of holding myself prisoner to the shackles of my guilt.
“Nope,” she teases, twisting to lie on top of me, her soft curves pressed perfectly against the ridges of my body. “I guess I should be thanking you for not stealing the covers. Maybe I’ll get you some better pillows for Christmas.”
“Getting to be yours is the greatest gift I could ask for, but in the same breath, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted to get better pillows.”
“My bank account has to be good for something so let me see what pillows I can find,” Marley says, pressing her lips to my quickening pulse. “Do you have a list or something?”
Honestly, it’s easy to forget who Marley is and the amount of zeros in her accounts until moments like this. “A list?” I ask, unsure what she’s asking for.
“Yeah, a list of one-liners, because the amount of times you have the perfect thing to say in the perfect moment can’t be a coincidence,” she says, and I’m grateful it’s the middle of the night so she can’t see the blush crawling up my whole neck and face.
Maybe it’s a good thing Marley doesn’t know about the letters.
“Nope, just spent too long wishing you were next to me, and now that you are, I’m going to make sure you know how appreciated you are,” I say, promising myself and Marley I will never take her love for granted.
“Do you know when you’re leaving for break?” Marley asks, causing my entire body to inadvertently tense.
We have Thanksgiving week off this year, but Hunter plays the rivalry game against Duke on Thanksgiving, and Henryagainst the Vegas Mambas on Black Friday before I’ll fly back Sunday. I feel bad it does, but the thought of going home in less than a week to face my entire family threatens to paralyze me.
“I think Friday,” I say, feeling my throat tighten. I was awful to Mirabelle earlier, and all I can do is hope she doesn’t tell our parents. “How upset was Mira?” I ask, and when Marley hesitates before answering, it says everything I need to know.
“She was . . . she’s worried,” Marley says, and I hate how my anxiety spikes. I would have preferred to hear that Mirabelle was so mad she threatened to sic Henry on me, but hearing she’s worried means she’ll ask questions. I should’ve been more careful with my words because she’s not the type to let it go, especially after the way Mirabelle watched me during their visit after I snapped at her the first night.
“Do you think I could borrow your phone to call and apologize? I don’t think Mira will answer if I call from mine.”
“Are you sure she’s still awake?”
I’d be shocked if she weren’t awake. “Family of insomniacs, remember?” I try to joke, but it falls flat. Maybe I’ll be lucky and Mirabelle will be asleep, so I can apologize in a voicemail.
Marley rolls for her phone to unlock it for me, and the bright light is blinding since my eyes have already readjusted to the darkness. “Do you want me to go?” she asks, and I love her for it, but I’m not sure I should be left alone for this conversation. I’m not sure I should be alone for any difficult conversations for a while, so I swallow the lump in my throat to reach for her hand.
“Don’t let me run,” I whisper, and she grips my hand tightly.
Mirabelle proves me right, answering on the second ring. “Hey, I’m sorry I forgot to let you know I landed in Minnesota. I was trying to make it to Henry before his curfew. Have you talked to JJ?”
I clear my throat. “It’s me.”
“Oh.”Mirabelle’s tone is completely different now.
“I’m sorry.”
“Fuck you, JJ,” Mirabelle says, and I flinch, realizing it’s not better to be on the receiving end of my sister’s temper. It’s definitely what I deserve, though.
“Mira—”
