Wrapped Up in You (Heartbreaker Bay, #8)(81)

“To Piper,” everyone cheered and drank, and then thankfully, conversations started up all around her so that she was finally no longer the center of attention.

Her friends, God love them, were all used to her ways, which meant they got that while she was touched they’d all remembered her birthday, she didn’t want any more attention. Easily accepting that, they were happy to enjoy the night and leave her alone.

“Did that hurt?” Jenna asked, amused.

“What?”

“Being loved?”

In tune to the sounds of the bar behind them—someone singing off-key to Sweet Home Alabama, rambunctious laughter from a nearby table, the slap of pool balls . . . Piper rolled her eyes.

“You know one day those eyeballs are going to fall right out of your head, right?”

Piper ignored this and went back to what she’d been doing before being so rudely interrupted by all the love. Making a list.

She was big on bullet journaling. She’d had to be. Making notes and lists had saved her life more than once. And yes, she knew she could do it on a notes app on her phone, but her brain hadn’t been wired that way. Nope, she was annoyingly old school, so she had to write that shit down by hand to make it stick.

She had pages dedicated to:

Calendars

Grocery Lists

Future Baby Names (even though she didn’t plan on having babies)

Passwords (okay, password, single, since she always used the same one—CookiesAreLife123!)



And then there were random entries, such as:


Life rules

—Stop eating entire bags of Cheese Poofs in one sitting.

—Don’t cut your own bangs no matter how sad you are.

—Never ever EVER under any circumstances fall in love.





She had a bucket list of wishes. Oh, and a secret secret bucket list of wishes . . .

Yeah, she probably needed help. Or a little pill.

Jenna leaned over her shoulder and eyed the open page. “New journal?”

Her vices were simple. She didn’t drink much, never smoked, but . . . she was an office supply ’ho. A never ending source of amusement to Jenna because Piper was also a bit of a hot mess when it came to organization and neatness. Her purse, her car, her office, and also her kitchen always looked like a disaster had just hit. “Maybe.”

“How many journals have you started and either lost or misplaced since I’ve known you, a million?”

Piper didn’t answer this on the grounds that it might incriminate her.

Jenna played with the pack of stickers that Piper had tucked haphazardly into the journal. “Cute. But I feel like stickers are cheating.”

“Bite your tongue. Stickers are everything.” So were pens. And cute paper clips. And stick-it notes . . .

“Stickers? Come on. There are far more important things than stickers.”

“Like?” Piper asked.

“Like food.”

“Okay, you’ve got me there.”

“Or sex,” Jenna said.

“Since it’s been awhile, I’ll have to take your word on that.”

“Well, whose fault is that?” Jenna nudged her chin at the journal. “What’s today’s entry?”

“A list for figuring out what’s next on fixing up the property.” Which was the house and cottages on Rainbow Lake that Piper and her siblings had inherited from their grandparents. “It still needs a lot of work. I’m in way over my head.”

“I know.” Jenna’s smile faded. “I hate that you’re going to sell and move away from Wildstone.”

Wildstone, California, was Piper’s hometown. Sort of. She’d moved here at age thirteen with her two younger siblings Gavin and Winnie, to be raised by their grandparents. But in the end, Piper had done all the raising. It’d taken forever, but now, finally, her brother and sister were off living their own lives.

And hers could finally start.

All she had to do was finish fixing up the property, then she’d sell and divide the money in thirds with her siblings. With her portion, she’d finally have the money and freedom to go to school and become a physician’s assistant like she’d always wanted.

So close. She was so close that she could almost taste it. She squeezed Jenna’s hand. “Don’t worry. I’m coming back to Wildstone after school.”

Where else would she go? Her only other home had been following her parents all over the world, providing healthcare wherever they’d been needed the most. But her mom and dad were gone now. Her family was Gavin and Winnie, and everyone in this room.

“But why the University of Colorado?” Jenna asked. “Why go so far? You could go right here to Cal Poly.”

Piper shook her head. Staying wasn’t an option. She’d been stuck here for seventeen years. She needed to go away for a while and figure out her life, who she was if she wasn’t raising her siblings. But that felt hard to explain, so she gave even her bff the excuse. “U of C is one of the really strong schools for my program. And I think I’ll like Colorado.”

Jenna looked unconvinced, but she was a good enough friend to let it go.

“Don’t worry,” Piper said. “I’ll be back.”

“You’d better.” Jenna read the journal over Piper’s shoulder. “You sure make a lot of very responsible lists. I can’t even make a shopping list.”