His brows furrow as he contemplates how to answer my accusing tone. “Um … yes.”
“How? There are so many choices.”
“Simple.” He shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in the booth. “I always get the same thing.”
“Always get the same thing,” I repeat in shock. “That is blasphemous. There are too many good choices to get the same thing every time. You must try all the things.”
“I know I like it, why bother risking my dinner on something I might not like?”
I gape at him. “For the experience!”
“I’m with my dad,” Toby pipes in. “I always get the chicken tenders.”
I look between the two Millers. “This is … unacceptable.”
“Predictability is nice.” A little smirk lifts the corners of Jamie’s lips, cocking his head to the side to appraise me.
“Predictability is the death of creativity,” I scoff, cradling the menu to my chest.
“There is nothing wrong with being safe,” he counters, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table.
“Yeah and there’s nothing wrong with being bold and taking chances either,” I argue back playfully.
Jamie gets a wistful smile and nods in approval. “You have a point.”
“Oh my God.” I clap my hands, causing the older couple at the table beside us to look over. “Did I just win an argument with you?”
Jamie’s tongue slides out, wetting his lips. “That wasn’t an argument, sweetheart. It’s called a disagreement, a spat if you will.”
The waitress’s arrival for our drink order breaks our eye contact.
Since the boys already know what they want that means I have to decide, and quickly since I’m starving. I’m pretty sure I burned an entire day’s worth of calories walking through the museum it’s so large. Besides, it’s my birthday and everyone knows calories don’t count on birthdays so I’m free to stuff my face.
By the time the waitress returns we place our order and dig into the bread basket she brought. It’s safe to say I’m not the only hungry one at the table.
“This is fun.” Toby grabs a pat of butter and opens it meticulously. Across the table Jamie does the same and I find it adorable how many traits Toby has picked up unconsciously from his father. “We should do this more often.”
“It’s such a shame Miranda only has one birthday,” Jamie quips at his son, before taking a bite of bread.
Toby rolls his eyes at his dad and starts spreading his butter on the bread. He struggles and I take the knife from him, finishing it for him. He takes the buttered bread gratefully. “But Dad you have a birthday and I have a birthday. With Miranda that gives us three whole birthdays in a year.”
“And,” I point out, Jamie’s amused gaze sliding my way, “you can go out without a birthday to celebrate. This information is life-changing, I know.”
Jamie chuckles, shaking his head. His hair is a bet messier than normal from our chaotic day, but there’s a happiness in him I never used to see. “Attacked, I am attacked by you two.”
I look at Toby, then across the table. “You’re definitely outnumbered now.”
Toby giggles and blurts, “Did my dad ask you if you make cookies?”
I arch a brow, looking between both of them. “What is this about cookies?”
Jamie sighs and Tobias grins. “I like cookies and I told my dad to ask if you make them. If you’re going to be his girlfriend that means you should make cookies.”
I bust out laughing and ruffle his hair. “You’re a cool kid, Toby.”
“So, do you make cookies?”
“No, but I can learn. I do eat cheesecake.” I wink at him and his returning smile makes my heart soar.
I look across the table at Jamie and he’s watching the two of us fondly.
It’s scary how much I love this time with him, both of them, it’s starting to scare me the idea of not having this.
Jamie walked away from me before, what’s to say he won’t again?
26
Jamie
“Whoa, this place is sweet!” Tobias rushes past us and into the suite. There’s a living area, small kitchenette, and a door to the right that leads to two double beds.
Tobias runs from the couch, to the kitchen, bathroom, and finally bedroom like an out of control pinball.
The door shuts behind us and Miranda steps around me, inhaling a breath.
“This view,” she croons, walking to the window that overlooks a lit up Washington monument. She wraps her arms around her body, drawing up her cropped sweater to expose a bit of skin. “Jamie … I … this is incredible.” She spins around facing me. “This whole day. Dinner. This,” she sweeps her arms to encompass the suite, “you, all of it. It’s more than I could’ve asked for.”
“It’s your birthday.”
I set down our bags and from the bedroom Tobias exclaims, “This is awesome!”
Miranda shakes her head, wrapping her arms around herself. “Nobody has ever done anything like this for me before.”
I step forward, skimming the backs of my fingers down her cheeks. “I wanted to make it special for you.”
I haven’t gone out of my way like this in a long time, but for her I will. I want to see her smile, laugh, because selfishly that brings me joy.
“Miranda,” Tobias bursts into the room, grabbing her arm until she gives him her hand, “come see this bathtub it’s so big. Like a pool.”
Miranda flashes me a small smile before letting my son tug her away.
I watch them head into the bathroom, shaking my head. I won’t lie though, it makes me insanely pleased to see how much Tobias loves Miranda and that she cares for him too.
While the two of them are occupied I carry the bags into the bedroom area. Tobias drags Miranda through the suite like he’s giving her a tour.
I set out a pair of his pajamas and his teddy bear. It’s getting late and I need to coerce him to take a shower and go to bed. Easier said than done with Miranda around since he loves to talk her ear off.
“Can we watch a movie?” Tobias asks, popping back into the bedroom.
Miranda stands behind him looking amused, her head tilted to the side. “I told him he had to ask you.”
“We can put one on,” I agree and Tobias begins to bounce around, somehow still a ball of energy despite the late hour and walking most of the day. “But you have to shower first.”
He frowns. “Fine. Now?”
“Now. March your butt.” I point to the bathroom.
Once he’s situated and thoroughly warned that he must wash his hair and body, not simply let the water run over him, I rejoin Miranda. She lies on the bed farthest from the window, looking at her phone.
I sit on the opposite bed and face her. She sets her phone aside and rolls over to face me, cradling her hands beneath her head.
“Thank you again for today, Jamie.”
“That reminds me.” I hop up and cross the room to my bag, bending down to dig out the small package. “Happy birthday.” I hold out the carefully wrapped package, feeling nervous. I’m not one for big gestures or to be overly cheesy, but I couldn’t help myself when I saw it.
She sits up, her dark tresses cascading forward. She takes the box with an eager smile and rips the paper off.
“It’s beautiful,” she murmurs, pulling out the necklace.
I was able to pick charms for it and chose a paintbrush, airplane, and key.
She touches each individual charm reverently.
“I love it.” Her smile eases my anxiety over the gift. “Put it on me.”
She passes it over to me and stands up, turning her back to me and sweeping her hair to the side so I can drape the necklace around her collarbone. I struggle with the clasp, but manage to secure it. Before I step away I place a kiss to the back of her neck.
Turning, she wraps her arms around my shoulders, standing on her tiptoes.
“Thank you,” she whispers, kissing
the corner of my mouth. Inside the bathroom the shower cuts off. She takes a step back and grabs ahold of the necklace. “The paintbrush is me, the airplane you, but the key…” She quiets, musing on it. Her dark eyes meet mine quizzically. “I don’t know what it means.”
I kiss her again, just for a moment before Tobias invariably comes running out.
“You’ll understand soon enough.”
27
Miranda
Classes end for the day, exhaustion settling into my bones.
For some stupid, naïve reason, I thought senior year would be easy.
I think it’s a lie I told myself in order to make it through last year.
I have to remind myself that soon enough school will be behind me, certainly not the loans, and I can embark on my journey in teaching. This is what I’ve wanted for years and it’s finally in reach.
“Miranda! Wait up!” I whip around and find Lou running across campus toward me. She reaches me and bends over, clutching her knees as she gasps for breath. “We’re supposed to have our sleepover.”
I lower my head, groaning. “I completely forgot.” Lou’s face falls and I instantly feel like the worst friend ever. “It’s been a rough week. I’m just exhausted from classes.”
She pulls me into a hug. “All the more reason for a sleepover. How about you go home and nap, or whatever, I’ll grab snacks and pizza, then hop over to your place.”
“That actually sounds really good.”
Frankly, I need to study, but if I don’t rest I think I’ll flunk everything anyway and it’ll all have been a waste.
“I’ll see you in a little bit.” She starts to back away, pointing finger guns at me. “If there’s a specific thing you want, just text me.”
She heads to wherever she parked on campus and I hop in my car.
Thank God my apartment is only five minutes from campus. Parking, I grab up my bag and books.
I pause when I see a new couple moving into Stan’s apartment. I didn’t know he’d left, but I’m glad to know he’s gone. His creeper vibes were intense.
I don’t linger long, just give my new neighbors a wave, before climbing the stairs.
When I open the door Fettuccine immediately rubs himself against my legs, meowing loudly.
“You’re gonna get me caught,” I whisper at him, dropping my backpack on the floor and scooping him up. He nuzzles his head into my neck, purring.
I grab him a treat, sitting him on the couch to enjoy it.
I hop in the shower and change into some cute pjs for our sleepover.
Lying down on the couch with my books, I try to get a head start on my homework before Lou arrives. I know she told me to nap, but there’s no way I can with so much homework waiting in the wings.
With one assignment done, I sit up and stretch my arms, grabbing my phone off the coffee table.
Me: Hey, hot stuff.
Jamie: What are you up to?
Me: Homework. Lou is coming over. We’re having a sleepover.
Jamie: Sounds kinky. Can I watch?
Me: Don’t be a dirty bastard.
Jamie: But you like it when I’m dirty.
Me: UGH EXCEPT YOU STILL WON’T HAVE SEX WITH ME.
Jamie: I’m taking things slow.
Me: It’s not like we haven’t had sex—you even made love to me on your plane, remember? Just do me already, Miller.
Jamie: No. Not yet.
I collapse back onto my couch with a groan.
Me: Are you trying to give me a case of Blue Vagina. It’s a thing. Google it.
Me: On second thought, don’t Google it.
Jamie: I just laughed out loud and got some strange looks.
Me: Where are you?
Jamie: Griffin’s. Grabbing a coffee before I pick up Tobias from school.
Me: Give Toby a hug for me.
Jamie: I’ll give TOBIAS a hug from you.
Me: Toby.
Jamie: Tobias. Meaning God is good. A Greek name with Hebrew origins.
Me: Yawn. Thanks for the history lesson old man.
Jamie: Did you just call me an old man?
Me: You’re twelve years older than me. Practically ancient.
Jamie: Hmm, well you seem to like this old man.
Me: Only a little.
Me: Is that why you named him Tobias? Because of the meaning?
He doesn’t text back right away and I worry I’ve pried too much. I nibble my bottom lip and finally the bubble pops up letting me know he’s typing back.
Jamie: It’s part of the reason. I just liked the name, and after I learned the meaning I knew there was no other name meant for my son. God was good to me when he gave me Tobias.
Fuck my feelings. I feel a tear slip down my cheek and brush it away.
Jamie: Hopping in my car. Have fun with Lou. You deserve it.
Me: Xoxo
I set my phone aside and clean up my books and trash scattered from last night’s study sesh. I can’t have my bestie showing up to a pigsty.
I’ve barely finished straightening everything when I hear a knock on my door followed by, “Bitch, open the door before I drop something.”
I hurry over, swinging the door open. Laughter bubbles out of me. Lou holds a pizza box with a bag from Oh, Crepe balanced on top, a bag from Walgreens full of candy and chips, her overnight bag is draped over her shoulders, a pillow under her arms, and a backpack strapped to her.
“Wow,” I mouth, taking the pizza box and stuff on top from her. “You went overboard.”
“I can’t help it.” She pouts, following me inside and closing the door. “My too much gene took over and I went a little crazy. We have pizza, macarons,” she points to the Oh, Crepe bag, “Starbursts, gummy bears, salt n’ vinegar chips, and I even got cupcakes since this is your birthday and all.” She slips her backpack off and digs inside. “I also picked these up.” She pulls out a brand new blanket, twinkle lights, and a board game. “Target has everything, man. Oh, and drinks are in this bag.” She hands me a plastic grocery bag I missed in the midst of everything else.
I open it and pull the box of White Claw out. “Oh, you’re the real MVP.” I set the box on the counter and open it up. She got a variety pack so I line up the flavors.
She swipes a grapefruit one and pops the tab open with a hiss. Tipping it to her lips she hums, “Ooh, that’s good. It’s like an adult Capri-Sun.”
I snort, un-bagging the rest of the items. Lou has always amused me with her love of Capri-Sun, it used to be practically all she stocked in her fridge but now that Abel lives with her blue Gatorade and Smart Water have joined the pack.
“When you met Abel did you think you’d met the love of your life?” I blurt out, swiping one of the plastic bags away from Fettuccine before he can suffocate himself.
Lou pauses, tilting her head to the side. “No.”
“Even you, the big believer in fate?” I gesture wildly with my hands.
“I believe in fate, so I knew we were meant to meet, to be roommates, but at the time I didn’t know that we’d become more.” She shrugs, reaching up to grab a plate and adds two slices of pizza.
I bite my lip, throwing away all the trash and lining up the snacks. Stalling for time I grab pizza too, a lime White Claw, and we move to the couch. I curl my legs under me and wiggle around until I’m comfortable. Lou waits patiently, knowing there’s more I want to say.
“How’d you know?” I take a too-large bite of pizza, stuffing my mouth full so I can’t say any more.
“Know what?”
Silence.
“That I love him?”
Ding, ding, ding we have a winner.
I nod and swallow grabbing my drink.
She bites her lip, thinking about how she wants to respond. “It’s one of those things that for me, started slowly. It was this trickle of awareness that I was happiest around him, how I watched the time when I knew he should be arriving at the apartment. I want to be around him all the time, even when he m
akes me mad I don’t want to be without him. I’ve never felt like I have to impress him, because he’s always made me feel special for who I am.” She nibbles on the end of her pizza, waiting a moment. Then she asks, “Are you thinking about Jamie?”
I duck my head. “I’m trying to understand my feelings for him. I … I’ve never been in love before. Infatuation, sure. Lust, all the time. But not love and I’m scared to put a label on my feelings because then it makes it real.”
She snorts in amusement. “It’s already real, even if you don’t put a label on it. It’s a mistake to think something doesn’t exist if you don’t give it a name. If you feel it, it’s already true.”
I set my pizza on the coffee table, suddenly not hungry. “But I don’t know if what I feel is love.” I sound defensive and instantly want to punch myself. Fettuccine must sense my distress because he jumps into my lap and starts kneading my bare legs, which hurts like a bitch. I pick him up, cuddling him to my chest before I end up looking like I trekked through a jungle. “It’s not like I’ve known him that long.”
She rolls her eyes and finishes her bite before she speaks. “You’ve known him since sophomore year, that’s over two years.”
“Not know him, know him.”
“He’s not a stranger, though, Miranda. Besides, Khloe and Lamar met and married after nine days. Love is love and you can’t put a timeline on that.”
“But they’re divorced,” I point out.
She waves a dismissive hand, swatting away my thoughts like a pesky nuisance. “But they still loved each other. Probably still do. Circumstances got in their way. Besides, I’m pretty sure at some point all divorced people love one another.” Her face drops into a frown. “Well, unless you’re held at gunpoint down the aisle, then you probably never loved your spouse, but like that’s rare I’m sure.”
“Do you think that’s happened?” My jaw drops at the prospect of being forced to marry someone with a gun at my back.
“Probably. Anyway, my point is, sometimes love goes away, or it changes, love can dissolve like any other feeling, but when you feel it you should embrace it, because it’s worth it.”
Desperately Seeking Landlord Page 15
