“His parents’ place in Sedona. He invited us to golf with you two. He said there’s plenty of room. Sounds amazing, but I thought it might be nice to go a few days early. I have friends in Tempe, and we’d love to see Chloe and Mason.”
My head inches to the side, allowing me to shoot a million daggers at Shep. “How nice of you to invite them. When exactly did this happen?”
“Last night while you were …” He presses his lips together.
When I was suffering from over-cleansing. He wasn’t that drunk. He remembers. Fantastic.
“I see.” I don’t make him finish. “I’m sure Shep will love golfing with you. His parents’ house is amazing. But I’m not taking off any more time for a while. And I think it’s best for you to stay with Chloe and Mason if you come for a visit. She’ll get jealous if you stay with me.”
“Did they get a spare bed?” Dad asks.
No. They got a crib. I frown.
“I’m sure they can figure something out.”
Taryn laughs. “Do you not want us to stay with you?”
“No. It’s just that uh …”
I have a Jimmy infestation. I’d rather have an overpopulation of termites or … snakes. Yep. I’d rather live with snakes than with Jimmy. I think I’ve always preferred snakes to men.
“My house is a little torn up. I’ve been repainting.” I shrug.
“Didn’t you repaint last year?” Dad asks.
God … why can’t he have dementia?
“I have a spare bedroom. You’re welcome to stay with me,” Shep offers.
“No.” I cringe. “Just …” Massaging my temples, I shake my head. “Of course you can stay with me. Just wait a few weeks. Next month would be awesome. Okay?”
Again, I’ve drawn unwanted attention to myself. After a few seconds of silence, Shep nods. “Next month it is.”
On the way home, my mind reels. I have a month to get Jimmy out. It shouldn’t be a problem, but his middle name is Problem, so I have to formulate plans B, C, D, E, F, G, and H-omicide.
“What’s up with all the traffic?” Dad says as we wait in a long line at the light.
“You always say that.” Taryn plays with the graying hair at his nape.
“Yeah, well it’s true. It’s rush hours. Twenty-four to be exact. It’s taking forever to get home.”
“Mmm …” Shep nods slowly next to me, keeping his gaze out his window. “Feels like a million years.”
“Not a million years,” I reply on reflex.
“No. It’s definitely a million,” Shep says.
“It’s taking twice as long to get home, and it didn’t take five hundred thousand years to get there.” I roll my eyes.
“I think it did.”
“No. It did not.”
Taryn glances over her shoulder at me and laughs. “You two sound like children fighting over something completely nonsensical.”
“That’s because my friend, Shep, is a nonsensical person.”
He smirks, but he still doesn’t look at me.
“Oh, Dalton, you should swing by the dry cleaners and pick up my dresses,” Taryn suggests.
“Sure. I’ll drop them off first, then we can run to the post office too. I need to pick up some flat rate boxes.”
“We can run errands with you,” I say.
“The house is on the way. Go take a nap, Peanut.”
Peanut.
This is Dad’s way of telling me I played like shit today because I had so much shit last night, and I could use a nap.
“Well, you can let Shep run errands with you. Give him a tour of Santa Monica.”
Shep chuckles. “I’ve been here many times. Actually, I could use a nap too. It feels like it’s been a million years since I had the chance to take a midday nap.”
He’s so nonsensical and … obnoxious.
“Okay, Peanut. Get some rest.” Dad stops in front of the house.
“Thanks,” I mumble, hopping out without giving Shep a second thought.
Not true.
I give him way too many thoughts. He’s like a cancer or a fungus, slowly spreading out of control in my brain.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“In a hurry?” Shep calls as I speed-walk into the house.
“Just uh … getting my nap in before they return home.”
“I enjoyed being under your skin today.”
My pace slows to a stop just before I reach my bedroom.
“I crawled under your skin,” he continues, “that day at the store when I implied sex with you was subpar. And I’ve been there ever since, keeping you on edge. The jealousy in your eyes when you think I’m screwing Riley—it’s my favorite appetizer. Watching you shank ball after ball today … it’s all so fucking perfect.”
“Perfect?” I whisper, making a slow turn toward him.
“Perfect,” he mouths, prowling toward me.
“I’m not a game.”
He grins. “Oh, Sophie … you’re the best game.”
“We are never having—”
“Yeah, we are.” He grabs my face and kisses me, obliterating every single protest on my lips.
Jimmy. Baby. Jimmy. Baby. Jimbab … jiba … j …
I push Shep away, breathless. Flustered. Really turned on. “I am un … unavailable.”