“Ahem, I said don’t come get me.” Hell, I thought I stuck it in your face that I wasn’t coming today.
“Where are ye?”
“Still in Boston.”
“When are ye returning?”
“Brody, I—” I hit a brick wall. The single lady mantra parading through my mind stalls. “I want a man who . . . holds on as tightly to me as I hold onto him.”
An eternity fades to black before he speaks. “Then tell me when ye’re coming back to California, lass.”
“Come to me.” I shrug, swiping a finger into a bowl of the frothy, light pink ambrosia salad my great aunt won’t stop bringing to functions.
“Alright, lass. I’m there. Gonna get me a ticket to come see ye.”
“Stop,” I gasp. “That was a thin joke. You’re crazy,” I walk out of the kitchen, and my voice lowers on the last part, “and desperate to fuck.”
“Ye telling me all I had to do was hop on a plane. Shite, I would’ve come to see ye, Justice, straight from my hometown.”
“No,” I reply, squeezing past chairs and folding trays in the living room.
“But ye should let me feck, Justice.” The seductive tenor in his voice sends me fanning my face. “Can ye honestly tell me ye have slept every night, safe from me, girl? Ye ain’t safe from me.”His voice ends on a lustful sneer.
This is about as spontaneous as Brody will ever be. A quest to sample pussy, which I doubt has anything to do with me.
“You don’t see anything wrong with our dilemma, do you?” I mutter, trying the door handle to the half-bathroom that’s beneath the staircase.
“Aye, ye ain’t here!” Brody’s bark sends me, pulling the phone away from my ear for a split second. The bathroom door opens. A family friend steps out, and I shuffle inside, closing the door behind me.
I lean against the tiny counter, pinching the bridge of my nose. The fabric and structure of my existence conflict with his. “I wasn’t waiting for you, Brody? Boo-hoo. Save your money. When I return, there are a few things I must keep in mind.”
“For instance?”
“You’re practically engaged,” I grit out.
“Come back.” He matches my bravado. “Don’t worry about all that.”
“I am, and I won’t.”
“Okay, when?”
“I’m returning. However, the two of us have had about as much fun as what’s written in the stars for us.”
“Lovely, nae, brilliant. Brilliant poetry, Justice. But I’ve heard that line before. Next time I see ya, have the poem ye promised me.”
“Screw your sarcasm, Brody. You’re chatting me up like we have that sort of relat . . . Hello? Hello?”
I stare at the phone in disbelief. He hung up on me.