Not Pretending Anymore(25)
Molly blushed. “Are you going to bed?”
“Nah, not yet. I’m not tired.”
“Would you want to take a walk and get some ice cream? I have such a craving for strawberry right now. There’s a place two blocks away that I love.”
“Sure. That sounds good.”
“Okay! I’ll throw on some jeans real quick and be right back.”
I felt a little disappointed that she was going to lose the sexy dress, but it only made sense. Plus, it wasn’t easy to keep my eyes off of her in that getup, and I didn’t want to get caught ogling.
She came back out wearing a pair of ripped jeans and a T-shirt, but honestly, she looked just as beautiful as she had all done up. I didn’t realize I was staring until she called me on it.
“What?” She wiped at her cheek. “Did my eyelashes come off again?”
I chuckled. “No. I was just looking at you. You don’t usually wear that much makeup.”
She pointed to her eye. “Yeah, now you know why. I’m not exactly a wizard with this type of stuff. Gluing my eye shut wasn’t the first complication I’ve had with cosmetics.”
“You don’t need all that crap anyway.”
She arched a brow. “Really? So you’re saying you didn’t notice me a little more with all the work I put in tonight?”
“Of course I did. I’m a man, and you made it hard not to notice. But sparkle only gets a person’s attention. It doesn’t keep it.”
Molly smirked and bumped shoulders with me. “I made it hard , did I?”
I opened the front door and extended my hand for her to walk through first. Damn…her ass looks fantastic in those jeans, too . Shaking my head, I blew out a deep breath.
My roommate was most definitely making things hard on me.
***
The next morning, I smiled, seeing my sister Catherine’s name flash on my cell phone. She was my favorite person to screw with, so I leaned back into my chair and tossed my pen on my desk before answering.
“Satan’s house of sins. We got porn, gambling, and prostitution. What can I do you for?”
“Ha ha. You know, when I became a nun, you were supposed to start being extra nice to me.”
“Who says?”
“It’s in the rule book.”
“What rule book?”
“The nun one.”
“I’m going to call BS on that, Sister-Sister. I’d like to see this rule book you constantly claim exists.”
“Well, you can’t. It’s strictly for nun eyes only.”
I chuckled. “How’ve you been, Cat? What’s new out in sunny California?”
“Well, I started taking a yoga class, so that’s new. I love it. Have you ever tried yoga?”
I pictured my sister in full nun garb reaching up into warrior position; even though I knew she actually rarely wore the whole outfit. “I gave it a whirl once,” I said. “But I found it hard to concentrate during the class.”
“Really? It does just the opposite for me. I find it completely conducive to focusing. Maybe you didn’t have a good instructor.”
“Nah. The instructor was fine. I probably just needed to be in the first row.”
“Oh, you mean you couldn’t see her from the back?”
“No. I could see her just fine. But how the heck was I supposed to concentrate with a room full of women bending over wearing those tight yoga pants?”
My sister laughed. “I should have known that’s what you meant, you horn dog.”
“Horn dog? Isn’t that a bad word you’re not supposed to use?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to check my nun manual.”
I chuckled. I really missed Catherine. She might be a nun, but she was funny as shit and had the best sense of humor out of all of my sisters. “So what else is going on out there in sunshine land? Have you been to see Mom and Dad lately?”
The tone of her voice changed. “Yeah, I saw them last week.”
“Not good?”
She sighed. “The usual.”
I knew what that meant, so I didn’t press. For the next fifteen minutes, we made small talk about the weather in Chicago, she told me about a quilting class she was teaching, and I told her a little about my new roommate and how things were going at work.
“So…how have you been?” she finally asked. “Are the medications still working?”
“I’m fine, Cat.”
“Have you talked to Dr. Spellman?”
“No, because I’m not supposed to talk to him unless I need to.”
“But you’re sure you’re feeling okay?”
I’d been waiting for these questions. My sister meant well, but she worried too much.
“Would I lie to a nun?”
She chuckled. “You absolutely would. But that’s beside the point. Seriously, Declan. I’m concerned about you. Six months is a long time to be away from the doctor.”
I didn’t mention that Dr. Spellman had expressed the same concern and given me some numbers for local people I could see here in Chicago. “Listen, if anything changes, I promise you’ll be the first to know. Okay?”
“Do you promise?”