Yes, I think of her as mine. I will have no trouble telling her so once we get past “slow.” Hell, I’m hers, too, whenever she wants to claim me. Over the last few weeks, though we haven’t even kissed, we’ve been building something.
I guess? I think? I hope?
“Sorry. Blame my rudeness on the concussion.” I gesture to the curious girl beside me. “Pippa Kim, this is Iris DuPree. Pippa’s signing with Elevation, and Iris works with our team.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful, Ms. Kim,” Iris says, her enthusiasm genuine. She really does love her job. “If you two were discussing—”
“Nope,” I cut in because if I know Iris, and I’m glad to say that I do now, she’s about to leave. And I can’t let that happen. “We were done, right, Pip?”
Displeasure passes over her face like a cloud, quickly hidden. “I guess we are,” she mutters, rising and grabbing her purse. “I’ll still be in town this week. I’ll call you about getting together.”
You just had to say that, huh?
“Sure.” My smile is stiff and my voice curt. “See you later.”
As soon as the door swings closed behind Pippa, I reach for Iris.
“Hey, you.” I bring the back of her hand to my lips. “How’s tricks?”
She studies me for long seconds, her inspection thorough. “Forget tricks,” she says, her voice subdued. “How are you?”
“Were you worried about me?” I tease, rubbing my nose over the palm of her hand and smiling when she shivers.
“Of, course I was worr …” She heaves a deep breath and blows it out, running her free hand through the wild hair that’s erupted into waves and curls. “God, August.”
A tear slides over her cheek, and I feel like a royal asshole. My head may hurt, but I can still lift someone as small as Iris, so I do, dragging her to sit up against the pillows in the bed beside me. I tuck her under my arm and lower my forehead to hers. We’ve covered a lot of ground since she moved here a month ago. She said slow, and I added consistent. The Louisiana irises every morning. Daily text messages. Lunch together whenever my schedule allows. We’ve been seeing how we fit into each other’s lives. After years of seeing each other so sporadically, it’s good to set a normal pattern.
If I ever wondered if I was simply infatuated with the idea of Iris and the reality wouldn’t live up to my expectations, I know now she doesn’t just match to my fantasies. She’s so much better. As hard as it’s been, I haven’t tried to kiss her. Don’t want to rush her. I’ve honored her request for slow, and now when I see how she w
atches me, I believe it’s paying off.
“Hey, I’m okay.” I work my fingers into the thick hair spilling around her neck.
“You’re sure?” Her breath is cool and minty, but my lips burn. “I saw you fall and … I’m just glad you’re okay.” Another tear streaks down her cheek. I brush it away with my knuckle and push the tangle of hair from her face.
“I’m glad you’re here.” I leave a few kisses along her hairline. “Thanks for coming.”
“I had to.” She watches me from beneath lowered lashes for a few seconds before clearing her throat. “It was nice of Pippa to come by, too.”
“It really was,” I agree.
“She’s even prettier in real life.”
“She really is.”
“And so talented.” She pushes a skein of hair behind her shoulder. “I guess you guys have a lot in common.”
I’m struck by the irony of Iris being jealous of Pippa when Pippa stormed out moments ago, clearly aware Iris is the one I want.
“Iris.” I lift her chin until she meets my eyes. “Is there something you want to ask me about Pippa?”
“No, I … no, I—”
“Do you wanna know if I fucked her? Because I did, but that was a long time ago.”
Her eyes widen and then drop to her fingers twisting in her lap.
“I was with a lot of people then,” I confess. “Because I was trying my damnedest to forget you were with him.”