Dear Juliet,
Since you’re so hell-bent on ignoring me, the woman who’s sacrificed everything for you, I had to stop by in person. I don’t know where you could possibly be hiding. But you need to call me. NOW!
The note isn’t signed. There’s no sweet closing “Love ya!” or anything like that. But it’s obviously from my mother.
Fuck.
I snap the note off the door and crumple it up in my hand. On a regular day, I’d be hard pressed to answer her calls. But on a day like today? I push my door open, step inside, and toss the crumpled paper into the waste bin. Not a fucking chance.
Chapter 24
I’m getting ready to go out. I’ve been messaging Mack, and we’re going to have a totally normal date night together. I’ve showered and everything. All the rest of my worries are being temporarily pushed out of my mind because, dammit, I just want to see him.
My phone vibrates with a message, and I check it in the darkness of my closet. I’ve been hanging out in here alone for a few minutes. Haven’t so much as turned the light on.
Kate: Now that you’re an outside girl, do you and Mack wanna get drinks with me and the guys tonight?
Jules: Sorry but can’t. I’m seeing Mack at his place. Ordering pizza.
Kate: Come to us instead.
Jules: I can’t . . . we’re . . . doing stuff.
Kate: Oh, I see! Has my little Jules finally experienced her first sexual awakening?
Awakening is putting it lightly. More like my first sexual bomb exploding. But I don’t need to specify that.
Kate: We love to hear it.
I flip on the light and double-check my outfit in the mirror. I can’t believe I’m using this mirror in my closet again. Excitement and nervousness invade my psyche like goats grazing on a never-ending field of bushes.
I should be happy, right? I have good news for Mack. Amazing news, in fact. News that could change the course of his life.
And my life. I think.
I’m wearing a black long-sleeve shirt with little cutouts for the thumbs. I can’t have any accidental skin slippages.
I’m not sure how the whole thing will work given my dynamic with Mack. I guess there won’t be any hooking up. No matter how tempted I am to jump in the tank with him.
The thought of the scales crawling up my forearms makes my heart leap. Don’t get in a tank, Jules. You’re not a fish, Jules. You’re not a fish monster, Jules. You were a model, for god’s sake. And that’s how Mack knows you. That’s the way he likes you. That’s who you are.
Things were going so well for me. Leaving my house. Wearing regular clothes. Attending social engagements. Having . . . hell, having orgasms with another person!
I’m not going to let the anxiety get the best of me.
And with that, I hurry out the door and down the spiral staircase.
I make it to Mack’s apartment in record time. I’m getting so good at this outside stuff; it really is impressive.
As usual, when he opens the door, nobody’s there, but I rush in and find him behind the door, pulling him into an aggressive hug.
“I have so much to tell you!” I say, but he speaks at the same time.
“I’m so happy to see you.”
I blush a little, picking at my hair and tucking it behind my ear. “Really?”
He puts his hand on my back, leans forward, and his lips meet mine in a kiss. Already, feelings are broiling beneath the surface of my skin. Deep, exciting feelings. “Always.”
Two pizza boxes sit on the kitchen counter. I’ve never even been that far into Mack’s apartment. We never seem to make it past the tank. I meander over to it. Everything is clean, immaculate.
He’s wearing a different pair of blue shorts and pulling a T-shirt over his head.
“Are you getting ready to go somewhere?” I ask.
It’s kind of a funny question because even if he were getting ready to go somewhere, certainly he couldn’t just pull a shirt on over his chest and call it a day.
I tip the lid of the pizza box and look inside. Normal pizza. Not sure what I expected. Maybe I expected Dr. Hammer to, poof, appear in the air out of nowhere. My stomach blips a little bit when I think about the pills in my purse. How do I bring it up? What do I even say?
First, maybe we can just enjoy our time together. After all, my stomach is grumbling.
“Should we sit on the floor to eat this?” I ask.
Eating pizza together is such a mundane thing to do, yet Mack’s apartment doesn’t have many mundane items like chairs or a table.
Mack slides the boxes off the counter, balancing them on his hand, and points to his window. “I thought we’d eat out there.”
“You have a balcony out there? In this city? Guess you really are rich.” I tiptoe to the window, but there’s nothing outside but a steep drop to the ground.
