Page 6 of Tangled Kisses
“Come on, what do you have to lose? A worthless fiancé who, by your account, was a terrible lay?”
“I believe I used the termunremarkable,” I retort, biting back a grin as I tighten my grip on the steering wheel.
“Unremarkable.” Piper snickers. “I stand corrected. That’s practically his epitaph.”
I bite my lip as I stare at my reflection in the rearview mirror. My dark eyes are flat and joyless. No spark. No glow. Nothing but resignation looking back at me.
Anger flashes through my veins.
What the hell is wrong with me? Am I really resigning myself to a life of mediocrity just to live in a desirable zip code? What sort of ridiculous nonsense is that?
“Give me five minutes to speak with Vander.”
“Don’t let him talk you out of living, Reese. I’m not kidding.” Piper pauses, her voice softening a fraction. “Look, right now it’s only a temporary gig for three months. Come out here, clear your head, figure out what you actually want. Who knows? Maybe Vander will realize what he’s lost and come begging you back.”
“Doubtful.”
He has scads of women at his beck and call, and after this afternoon’s public display, I’ve become a liability in his picture-perfect world.
“Or maybe you’ll realize there’s a whole lot more to life than lousy lays and orgasm-free zones.” My sister’s wicked grin is practically audible through the phone.
Right. Because orgasms will be the determining factor in my decision.
Although, they sure as hell would be nice.
I pick at my nail, my go-to nervous habit. “Can I bring Chowder?”
There’s a pause. “Who the hell is Chowder?”
“My orange tabby. I adopted him from the euthanasia list. He’s the orneriest furball on the planet.”
Piper laughs. “Obviously, bring his furry butt along. I thought Vander hated animals.”
“He does. Believes they’re only acceptable if they’re stuffed or draped across your shoulders as fur.”
The words taste bitter, but they spark a realization I’ve never admitted out loud. Maybe that’s why I got Chowder in the first place.
That cat gave me an excuse to stay at my apartment. To go home and feed him instead of sleeping at Vander’s family estate. Six months of pretending. Of overnight visits here and there, but never fully moving in. Vander never once set foot in my modest one-bedroom. It wasn’t worth his time.
Here I thought I was saving Chowder. Turns out he might be the loophole that saves me.
With a start, I realize Piper still hasn’t told me where in the world she is, or where I’m apparently about to end up. “What state are you in? Are you even in the US anymore?”
Piper giggles, and I picture her rubbing her hands together with devilish glee. Her staid, careful sister considering something spontaneous is the ultimate victory. “I’m in Oregon.”
I know nothing about Oregon except that it’s in the Pacific Northwest, and it rains. A lot. “Doesn’t it rain every day there?”
“Not where I am. I’ll text you the address. Let me talk to my boss so she can get ready for you. When can we expect you? Four days? Five?”
“Hold on, I need to talk this over with Vander.”
“No, you need to tell Vander you’ve made a decision. If he doesn’t like it, tough. Either way, you’re on the road first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Piper, I can’t leave that quickly,” I argue, the familiar churn of anxiety twisting in my stomach.
I’m a planner. My entire life has been checkboxes and color-coded lists, every step mapped out so there are no surprises. Surprises terrify me.
Not my sister. Piper flies by the seat of her pants, ricocheting from one wild adventure to the next, and somehow it always works out for her. The thought of living like that? It makes my chest tighten.
