I Want You Back (Want You #1)(70)

“Thank you, Annika. For everything today. I feel a little more settled after your impromptu therapy session.”

“Anytime.” She leaned over and squeezed my hand. “I mean that. Whenever and wherever you need to talk, I’m there for you.”

“Same goes.”

“Remember you said that when my man is gone and I wanna get my drink on to forget he’s on the road.”



* * *



? ? ?

The day I’d dreaded turned out to be blissful.

After a massage, a facial, a mani-pedi, a deep-conditioning treatment for my hair and a decadent late lunch complete with dessert, I returned home. While I missed Mimi, the silence in the apartment was a welcome change. I napped, fully naked, something I couldn’t do with Mimi around, and when I woke up, I cracked a small bottle of prosecco I’d been saving.

Lounging on my couch in my robe, sipping bubbly, listening to random tunes on Pandora . . . I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so relaxed.

My cell phone buzzed on the coffee table. I leaned over to see a text message from Jax.

    JL: Hey Lucy Q. I know you’re out whooping it up tonight, but could you bring Mimi’s equipment bag to hockey practice tomorrow afternoon? We forgot it ?

ME: NP. But I didn’t go out, I’m home.

JL: Are you OK?

ME: I just needed a mental health day.

JL: Because of work? Or Mimi? Or . . . me?



I snorted, seeing he’d listed himself as the last possible source of my emotional rollercoaster.

    ME: Definitely you ? I have lots of things to think about.

JL: What can I do? Do you need me 2 bring you food?



It wasn’t like I could ask him to swing by the liquor store for more prosecco.

    ME: I’m fine. Listening to tunes, having a cocktail. Hey, you know what song just came on? Lose My Breath by Destiny’s Child. Remember when we danced to it?

JL: Like I could EVER 4-get that nite.



I squinted at my phone, looking for the innocent blinky eyes emoji. Aw, screw it. I sent the text without the emoji.

    ME: You can’t forget because I asked if you were a stripper?



His response was slower. The “. . . ” flashed at me for several long moments.

I topped off my glass and set my phone aside, picking up the trashy entertainment magazine that was my guilty pleasure. Then my phone buzzed. Twice.

Don’t look. Just keep flipping pages.

But I was curious, so I checked the message.

    JL: Because that’s when I knew you were the only one for me ?

JL: Then and now.



“Oh please.” I snorted and then texted him a GIF of some TV actress snorting. Because I found it funny, I sent him a different one. And then another one.

And that’s when my phone rang.

Shit.

I answered it with, “Aren’t you supposed to be watching our daughter and not spending all your time screwing around on your phone?”

“I am watching her. She’s in the kitchen finishing the dishes.”

“Wait. Mimi is doing the dishes?”

“Yes.” He paused. “Don’t you have her load the dishwasher after supper?”

It was less hassle just to do it myself. But I wasn’t going to admit that to him. “Why did you call?”

“Seriously, Luce? After you sent me the GIF with the woman laughing like a donkey?”

I snickered. “I love that one.”

“I figured you did since you sent it to me five times.”

“I did not! I sent it once. Maybe twice.”

“Scroll back through the message thread if you don’t believe me.” Another pause. “Are you okay?”

“Perfectly fine.”

“You sound . . . off.”

“Yeah? Well you sound annoying.”

He laughed.

Jerk. With the sexy jerk laugh.

“Mimi and I were about to go out for ice cream. Want us to bring you some?”

Yes. The bubbly had kicked in my sugar craving, but I answered, “Nope. I’m good.”

“You sure? I remember how much you loved MooLattés from DQ, Lucy Q.”

I closed my eyes. When he’d been around early in my pregnancy, he’d been so sweet and eager to feed my cravings. Whether for food or sex. Sometimes both as he’d licked whipped cream off my—

“That’s it. There’s something going on with you that you’re not telling me, so we’re coming over.” Then he hung up.

“You don’t just get to barge in anytime you feel like it, sport,” I said out loud, so at least I felt like I’d gotten the last word in.

Mature, Luce, real mature.

My phone buzzed with a text. I had to scroll through five GIFs to see what he’d said.

    JL: Mocha or vanilla?

ME: You don’t have to



His demand of MOCHA OR VANILLA? popped up again before I finished typing my first response.

    ME: CHOCOLATE JERKFACE



I pictured him laughing because my contrariness amused him.

    JL: Is chocolate jerkface a new flavor? If they don’t have it is just plain chocolate OK?