It’s scary and yet right. I guess I can tell myself that I don’t believe in love anymore, but . . . somehow it snuck up on me.
After Dad leaves, JP assuring him he’ll get me home, JP throws himself down onto the couch and sprawls out, resting a hand on Byron’s back. “Jesus. Your dad hates me.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
“I don’t blame him. You should hate me too.”
I sit next to him. “Byron’s going to be fine. You look worse than he does.”
He scrubs a hand over the dark stubble on his jaw. “I didn’t sleep much last night. I was afraid he was going to die if I didn’t watch him. Man, I’m a shitty dog sitter.”
“No, you’re not.” I lay my cheek on his chest, arms around his waist.
“How can you even say that? And I didn’t tell you what else happened last night.”
“Uh-oh.”
“He peed on Chelsea’s designer Christmas tree and shorted out the lights.”
My head jerks up. “No!”
“Yes.”
I give Byron a slitty-eyed look. “Byron! Why would you do that?”
“Duh. It was a tree.”
I laugh. “Oh my God. That’s so awful. I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry about? I’m the one who took him there.”
“He’s my dog. He doesn’t usually pee in other people’s houses.”
“It was a tree. He pees on trees.”
“Well, yeah. But still. Oh, Byron.”
He looks back at me with big, sad eyes.
“Yeah, I know, you’re not feeling well. You did that to yourself, you rascal.” I stroke his fur again.
“How wasyourChristmas?” JP reaches out and takes my free hand. “Did you have fun with your sister?”
“Yes! And the munchkins. I have pictures.” I jump up to grab my phone and show him all the pics I took. I scroll through them quickly, not wanting to bore him, but he stops me a few times and asks questions, wanting to know which little girl is Penelope and which is Mia. There are even a few of me with the nieces that Dad took using my phone, and a selfie I took with Amy, heads together, big smiles.
“You two look alike.”
“Yeah, apparently we do.” I set down the phone. “It was great to spend some time with them. Amy and I managed to get a little alone time so we could talk about Mom and Dad. And you.”
“Me?”
I smile and smooch his lips. “Of course you. I missed you.”
“Mmm.” He kisses me again. “Missed you too, Sunshine. Although I was pretty traumafied last night, thinking that I’d killed your dog.”
“Traumafied?”
“Yes.” His lips twitch. “Seriously, I think I would have packed up and emigrated to Kazakhstan if he didn’t make it. I could never face you again.”