Page 117 of Yours to Lose
I pick up my ringing phone from the kitchen counter, grinning when I see Jo’s name on the display. I’ve been waiting for this call.
“Well, hey there, Hurricane,” I say when I swipe to answer the call, my heart kicking up at her wide smile. Her face is bare, with that just washed look, her hair piled up on her head, and she’s wearing a Boston Red Sox T-shirt she stole from me over the summer. I love seeing her in my clothes. In anything.
I miss her so damn much.
She beams at me from her living room couch.
“You know, you keep this up, and I’ll have to abdicate my best present giver ever title to you. An entire package of Fireball merch? I die, J.”
“Only the best for my girl. And if I’m a good present giver, it’s because I learned from the best.”
“Well played, my guy. Well played. The Fireball cotton candy is elite. I finished it already and will definitely be needing more.”
I drop into one of the bar stools, leaning my elbows on the counter. “There’s a twelve pack on its way to you right now. I bought myself one too and tried it last night. It almost burned my mouth off, so I knew you would love it.”
Jo smiles, and her eyes go soft the way I love. She pulls her legs up to her chest, propping her chin on her knees and tugging the tie out of her hair. The dark strands fall in a wavy curtain over her shoulders, and she’s so beautiful that for a minute, it’s hard to breathe. It’s been three weeks since I last touched her, and my arms literally ache to be around her.
“I think this package has my pancake package beat.”
I smile at her, enjoying our little game. The first week I was home, she sent me a pancake themed package, which I followed up with a box of everything she needed to have a disaster movie night, complete with new pajamas and the ingredients for candy popcorn. Then last week when I started my new job, she sent me a box full of rubber ducks dressed like doctors “for the kids,” and I sent her two dozen pairs of the craziest socks I could find, which she loved so much she stripped her clothes off on the spot, leading to a round of the hottest phone sex of my life.
“It’s not a competition, Hurricane.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Everything is a competition, J, which is why I upped my game this week. Your doorbell should be ringing any minute.”
“I fucking miss you, Jo Jo.”
I love you.
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from blurting out the words. The wall holding them in gets lower every single day we’re apart, but I don’t want to say it for the first time on the phone. I want the first time I tell her I love her to be when she’s wrapped in my arms, and I can kiss the shit out of her and promise we’ll never be apart ever again.
Honestly, I’d settle for just being in the same room as her.
She sighs, leaning back against her couch. “I miss you too. I wish I could kiss your face. Any luck on the apartment front?”
I’ve been staying with my parents since I moved back to town. At first, I reasoned that with starting a new job and everything, it made the most sense until I figured out where I wanted to land permanently. But three weeks later, I can admit that what I’ve been doing is lying to myself.
I don’t want to make a decision about a permanent place to live because I don’t want a place that’s mine. I want a place that’s ours.
I don’t want Jo to come join my life. I want to make a life with her.
I don’t want any kind of life if she’s not a part of it.
I shrug, trying to seem casual. “Nothing feels quite right yet. I’m not in a rush.”
Jo studies me through the screen. “You don’t want to take that available apartment in your brothers’ building and call it a day? I figured being close to them would be an easy choice.”
I blow out a breath and give her some of the truths I’ve worked out for myself in the few weeks I’ve been home. “I don’t want to make easy choices. I want to make the right choices. Being back in Boston feels right, and going back to pediatrics feels like I found one of my missing pieces. I’ll find a place to live when it feels right, but for now, I’m good here.”
I’ll find a place to live when you’re here to find one with me.
Jo nods, looking thoughtful. “I’m fucking proud of you, you know.”
“For what?”
“For living, Jordan. For deciding what you want your life to look like and making it happen. For being happy. After everything you’ve been through, that’s a radical act, J. It’s really beautiful to watch, and I’m just glad I get a front row seat.”
My chest tightens with emotion at her words. Fuck. I need her like fucking air. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you, you know.”
