Page 122 of Yours to Lose
Hannah points to the bowl in my lap. “Eat more candy.”
I shove a handful in my mouth, and I don’t know what magic it is, but it helps.
“You are the farthest thing from pathetic, Jo,” Hallie says quietly. “Let me ask you a question. If you didn’t have Jordan, would you still have quit your job?”
“Yes,” I say immediately, surprising myself. “I loved my job, but the idea of being able to do what I did there and in New York in museums all over the country? It was too good an opportunity to pass up. The fact that I can do it from anywhere is just a side benefit.”
Hannah lays a hand over mine. “And Boston. Can you imagine a life there? Not just a life with Jordan, but a real, full, fulfilling life of your own, separate from him?”
I swallow hard, emotion clogging my throat. “Yes,” I manage. “I love you guys, and the idea of leaving you and the babies makes me want to curl into a ball and cry for a year, but I loved Boston too. God, I loved it so much. The city, the history, everything about it, like, called to me. That’s a weird fucking thing to say, but it’s true. I’m woo woo enough to trust that feeling. And Jordan in Boston is an amazing thing to see. It’s where he belongs. Every part of him lights up in that city, and he should be in a place that makes him feel that way. Also, his family is incredible. His brothers are these amazing guys and, well, I don’t have to tell you about his mom.”
Hannah grins. “She’s a romance reader who discussed vibrator preferences with you on your very first visit to her house. She’s fabulous.”
“I can’t believe you started a romance book club without me,” Hallie grumbles.
I pat her hand. “I told you we want you there too, Hal. It was a spur of the moment kind of thing, and you were busy the first time we met. I already put the next meeting on your calendar.”
“Fucking right you did,” she mutters. “I’m the one who introduced your teenage self to romance in the first place. You stole your first one right off my shelf. Besides, when you move to Boston, we’ll need all the excuses to talk.”
“If I move to Boston, you mean.”
Hallie gives me ayou’re patheticlook, and yeah, I deserve that. I’m a whiny bitch tonight. “Listen, I know you’re feeling sorry for yourself because you miss your boyfriend, and I get it. If Ben and I were apart the way you and Jordan are, I would be miserable. But you guys are going to figure this out. I know you will.”
I blow out a breath and eat more candy. “I know we will too. And we’re good. Even long distance, we’re really, really good. Honestly, I would wait for him to be ready for as long as he needs because he’s worth it.” I glance at both of my sisters. “I didn’t know it could feel this way. That I could have so much in me for another person. That I could love so deeply, without reservations. It’s like I see him, you know? And he sees me right back. Until him, aside from you guys, no one has understood me, not all the way down. He doesn’t expect me to be anyone other than myself.” I shrug. “He’s my other half. I can’t do anything but love him.”
“I’m so happy for you, Jo Jo.” Hannah’s voice is thick, and when I turn to her, there is a sheen of tears in her eyes, and she’s wringing her hands together in her lap.
“What’s wrong, Han?” I ask, alarm in my voice.
She shakes her head, wiping under her eyes. “Nothing. Really. I’m fine.” She takes both of my hands in hers. “I just want you to be happy, Jo. You are everyone’s light, and you deserve this kind of happiness. I want it for you.”
Her voice has an edge of desperation in it that worries me, and one look over my shoulder at Hallie tells me she’s worried too. Between the night over the summer when I was in town and now, something is going on with Hannah. “Han, is everything okay between you and Brett?”
Hannah stiffens slightly and her eyes turn wary, but it all just lasts for less than a second before she relaxes. “We’re good,” she says, in a way that makes me think they’re not good at all, but of the three of us, Hannah is the most guarded about her personal life, and she won’t share unless she’s ready. I squeeze her hands. “You know you can talk to us, right? We’re your ride or die, Han. We’re here for you no matter what.”
“I know,” she says quietly, looking down at our joined hands. “Not right now, okay?”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
“Thanks, Jo Jo. And listen, for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing exactly the right thing. You were entitled to a meltdown tonight because long distance sucks, but I really don’t think it’s forever. It’s just for now. Giving Jordan the time he needs to get settled into Boston is the right choice. When he’s ready, he’ll let you know.”
“She’s right, Jo,” Hallie says, laying a hand on my shoulder. “And for what it’s worth, Ben thinks you’re doing the right thing, too, and he knows Jordan better than anyone. Well, anyone except for you now. You and Jordan are going to be stronger for giving yourselves this time, even if you have to survive on texts and calls and fun mail and phone sex for a while. You are having phone sex, right?”
I think about our scorching hot interlude the other night after I opened a package from him and found two dozen pairs of the weirdest socks I’ve ever seen, and a sly smile spreads over my face. “Oh yeah, that is definitely happening. A lot. Jordan Wyles is a phone sex champion. A champion of all sex, really.”
Hallie snorts out a laugh. “I really love that for you.”
I snuggle deeper into the couch and sigh. “I really love it for me too. That. And him. And both of you for knowing I needed you without me telling you.”
My sisters both lean back and link an arm through one of mine so the three of us are connected.
“Always, Jo,” Hallie says. “No matter what.”
“Evans sisters stick together.” Hannah leans a head on my shoulder. “So are we getting tacos and getting tipsy or what?”
“Fuck yes,” I say, sitting up and grabbing my margarita from the coffee table. I take a long sip, wincing at the burn of the tequila. For the next few hours, my sisters and I eat candy and tacos and get full-blown drunk on Hannah’s atomic margaritas, and I almost completely forget about the fact that my phone hasn’t lit up once with a text from Jordan.
Almost. But not quite.
