Page 102 of Crazy Thing

My siblings exchange looks but I don’t care to explain myself. I grumble a ‘good night’, eyes on my screen as I head out of the bar.

Throughout my drive back to my house, I listen intently, hoping to hear the ding of my phone, letting me know that Ziggy has gotten back to me. But there’s nothing but the smooth rumble of my engine in the quiet night.

Fuck.

Why does everything feel so…hollow without her?

I turn onto my driveway and the spotlights blink on. The imported fountain is there. The second and third story balconies are there. The perfectly manicured lawn is there. Still, it feels like something is missing.

The absence of Lady Tourmaline feels like a gaping hole in my front yard. What the fuck? I’ve developed an attachment to an ugly converted school bus. What the hell is wrong with me?

I take a quick shower, then I’m pacing through the rooms of my cavernous house like a zombie. I trudge through the hallways, flipping through pictures of Ziggy on my phone. When I mindlessly stare into the fridge and see her face reflected in the bottle of orange juice, I know I’ve officially lost it.

The thought of this woman has possessed me.

I step out onto the balcony, staring down at the empty driveway. Fuck those dating rules about double-texting—I send Ziggy another message even though I still haven’t received an answer to the first. She doesn’t even read them.

Man—I just don’t feel right. I might as well turn in and start over tomorrow.

With a sigh, I head inside and collapse into bed, staring at the ceiling, ready to give up.

And then the doorbell rings, echoing throughout the house.

My hand taps around in the dark and I find my phone in the bedding beside me. I check the security cameras and Ziggy’s angelic face fills my screen.

She’s standing at my front door, looking nervous and beautiful and perfect with a big old-fashioned suitcase at her feet.

No fucking way.

I jog—no, I’m lying—Isprintdown the hallway and take the stairs three at a time to get to her, probably breaking a few track and field records in the process.

I swing the door open with a flourish.

My heart smiles. My cock smiles.

“Hi,” I say, breathless and hopeful.

Her eyelashes flutter shyly. “Hi.”

“Is everything okay? Are you okay?” I reach for her hand, peering over her shoulder to make sure there’s no danger lurking in the bushes. All I see is a glorious purple school bus parked in the yard, too close to my car as usual.

Ziggy’s clammy fingers weave through mine. “Can I…can I spend the night?”

I pause. I blink.

I take too fucking long to respond.

Now, she’s slowly backing away, doubt all over her face. “Oh god. I’m sorry. You’re busy. You’re in the middle of something. And I showed up without calling first. I can just leav—”

“Are you kidding me?! Not happening.” I grab her ratty suitcase and yank her inside.

40

ZIGGY

“The house tour is gonna have to wait for some other time.” Darius abandons my suitcase in the middle of his massive two-story foyer. He scoops me up, hoisting my legs around his waist in a hurry.

“What are you doing?!” I gasp.

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