Page 50 of Fly Boy
“I have two of everything.”
She stares at me for one long second before throwing her head back and laughing loudly. The sound takes me off guard. This whole morning has. I’m still lusting after the woman in front of me, more than I was last night, and here she stands, seemingly unaffected, producing this sound that has to be the best thing I’ve heard inside this house. It somehow fills it with light and joy and something I can’t put my finger on but know I want to keep.
“Oh, Wyatt, when I said you don’t collect clutter, I meant the crap that collects dust like those little houses people keep tissues in.” Pippa covers her mouth, smothering a giggle. “What do you do when everything’s dirty?”
“You sound like my brother,” I mutter. “I don’t need a lot of stuff when it’s just me, and in case you haven’t noticed...” I wave an arm around the immaculate kitchen. “I’m not exactly messy.”
She sucks her lips between her teeth, her shoulders shaking, breathing uncontrolled bursts of air as she swallows the laugh that wants to escape. “But what about when you have people over? Family or dates or whatever?”
“You’re the first girl who’s been here for coffee in the morning.”
Slowly, she lowers herself onto the flats of her feet and rolls her eyes. “I find that hard to believe. I bet you say that to all the girls to make them feel special.” I stare at her, wondering how she’s so calm while my head is spinning, but she only looks back expectantly until she lifts a hand and says, “But speaking of coffee…”
“This isn’t weird for you?” I blurt, her head jerking back in confusion.
“What?” Her eyebrows knit together. “That you lied when you said that you haven’t had women back here before now, or that I’m still waiting on my drink?”
“We fucked last night, Pippa, and you’re acting like nothing happened.”
Did those words really come out of my mouth? I’m acting clingy, like I’m desperate to know what’s going on in her head. ButI can’t tell what she’s thinking as she stands there, face schooled, hands hanging by her sides.
“Well, I did offer you round two in the shower this morning, but you turned me down,” she states, her voice sounding indifferent, much to my annoyance. A coy smile plays on her lips until she lets out a long huff. “Would I have enjoyed it if we fucked again? Hell yes. But you’ve got integrity, Wyatt. You said one night only, and I respect that. So when I finally get my coffee”—she stares pointedly behind me at my machine—“I’ll drink it, I’ll leave, and we’ll never speak about it again.”
Okay. So she’s acting exactly how we said. One and done. No reading into it, no asking for more—shower offer aside. She wasn’t just saying those things to placate me to get what she wanted. She understood the directive and is sticking to it.
So why does that make me feel so hollow?
“Right,” I say, clearing my throat and heading to the coffee machine, pod still in hand. As I’m about to place the mug under the pourer, my phone rings on the counter right in front of her.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to look, but it’s your dad,” Pippa says, glancing at the screen and reading it out loud.
“It’s fine. I’ll call him back.” I haven’t spoken to him in two weeks, taking the coward's way out and only texting him so he knows I’m okay. I’m not ready to talk about Fiona. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready.
“Oh fuck,” Pippa squeals as my phone starts to ring again. My heart lurches as my head snaps up to look at her. If Dad is calling back so quickly, it can’t be good—can it?
Her gray eyes are wide as she holds my cell out in front of her like it’s about to detonate. “Wyatt, it’smydad.”
My mouth dries, and my stomach bottoms out as I read the caller ID. “He doesn’t know you’re here, right?”
She huffs, incredulous. “Actually, he does. Before I left, I said,don’t wait up, Daddy; I’m just going to your new employee’s house to have sweaty, wild, and passionate sex. I’ll tell him you say hi.” She thrusts my phone into my hand, a deep scowl set on her forehead. “Of course, he doesn’t fucking know.” She blinks rapidly at it, the trilling sound of the ringtone still blasting as she hisses, “Answer it, Wyatt.”
I stab my finger on the screen, my tongue thick in my mouth as I say, “Mr. Cartwright.” It comes out weird and doesn’t sound like me, so I try clearing my throat. “Good morning, sir.”
“Speaker,”she mouths just as he begins to talk. I pull the phone away from my ear and tap the screen, his voice echoing in my kitchen.
“…and Nancy and I were talking. Since Alistair is on an extended vacation, we’d like you and Liam to fly us to France to see Pippa compete in the Grand Prix.”
“France? Of course,” I say, my words stilted. “It’s in two weeks, right?”
“That’s right,” he continues. “Pippa’s going to be flying out a few days early with the team, so I thought we’d go along then,too—you, me, Nancy, and Liam. We'll spend a couple of days seeing the sights in Paris before heading to the arena for the final.”
“You want Liam and me to see the sights?” I catch Pippa’s eyes as she plays with the nape of her shirt. “In Paris?”
“What?”she mouths, and I frown at the phone resting in the palm of my hand, shrugging a shoulder.
“Why wouldn’t you? We can’t expect you to fly all the way to the city of love and not see what they have to offer.” I almost choke, pretty sure Mr. Cartwright doesn’t hear the innuendo. “We’d be gone for roughly five days, so we’d love it if you’d just stay in France with us, all expenses paid.”
“All expenses paid?” I don’t know why I’m repeating what my boss is saying. The words are clear, but they don’t compute. “In Paris?”
