A phone going off had the detective pulling out his cell. Annoyance twisted his face. “Another case needs my attention,” he announced but glanced at Arella again. “Remember, if you need anything, just give me a call.”
She nodded. “Thanks again,” she told him with a tight smile.
Ten minutes later, we were back in her car, and I was driving us to pick her up a new phone. She was still being too quiet, but I didn’t want to argue with her, so I didn’t force her to tell me what was going through her head.
Parking in front of my cell carrier, I turned off the car and got out. I walked around to the passenger door, opening it for her and offering her my hand.
“This isn’t my carrier,” she said as she glanced at the building.
“No, it’s mine. I’m adding you to my plan.” Taking her hand, I entwined our fingers and tugged her toward the front door.
“I don’t need to be added to your plan,” she complained. “I can pay for my own phone and anything else.”
“I’m aware of that,” I grumbled, opening the door. “But I want your phone connected to mine.” Fuck, I wanted everything of hers connected to m
e.
She rolled her eyes. “Jordan, this is ridiculous.”
“Do you want the same phone you had?” I asked as we waited for assistance. “It was the newest iPhone, right?”
She sighed heavily but nodded. “Yes, the one that was just released a few months ago.”
“Okay, what color?” When a sales associate approached us, I told her what we wanted and that I wanted to add the line to my plan. It took barely fifteen minutes to get it all sorted, and while I paid for everything, Arella was already texting her new number to her parents.
I didn’t imagine that just because she gave in so easily over the phone that she would do the same on everything else. It was a minor win, and I still had too many major battles to go.
Like getting her to move in with me. Permanently.
Ten
Arella
I didn’t argue with Jordan. Not about the phone. Or stopping by my place to get a few things. Or even about going to dinner that night.
Because I knew they were just words to him.
In a week, I would switch the phone over to my own carrier and keep the number and the new iPhone. He would get bored with me and I would be right back at my place, so I didn’t bother to pack more than a few changes of clothes, toiletries, and my makeup bag.
As for dinner with his parents, I knew something would keep that from happening, so I didn’t feel even a flicker of nervousness like I would have had I thought for even a second that would become a reality. Either Jordan would come up with some excuse that kept us from going, or his parents would. I was nothing more than one of their son’s friends, not even important enough to be elevated to his best friend over the years. Really, I was no one to the Moreittis, so why would they want to take time out of their busy lives to have dinner with me?
That theory was proven correct when we walked into Jordan’s apartment and his phone alerted him to a text. As he tossed his keys into the beautiful decorative bowl that sat on his entrance hall table, he pulled his cell from his pocket and grunted as he read the message.
“My mom has a migraine,” he said as he followed me into his living room, where I was already making myself at home. “Dad is taking her home so she can sleep it off. But they’re going to let me know when a good day is to have our dinner.”
The sudden lump filling my throat made me realize a small part of me had been holding out hope that I was wrong. Pushing back the sting of tears, I averted my face so he wouldn’t see my weakness until I knew for sure I had myself under control.
“Okay. The rest of my week is pretty full, though.” Not that I wouldn’t have changed my plans if I thought Jordan’s parents really did want to meet me. But they didn’t.
I knew he didn’t understand my need to have him introduce me to his mother. Honestly, I didn’t fully understand it either. Maybe I wanted to know how he would introduce me. They knew who I was, so it wasn’t like he even had to make an actual introduction. Yet, I yearned to know if he would tell them I was just his friend—or something more.
I rolled my eyes at that silly fantasy. Of course, Jordan and I were only friends. Maybe he wanted something a little more, like friends with benefits, but I would’ve had to be the most gullible person to walk the earth if I thought for even a minute that he would ever want anything more with me—or any other girl, for that matter.
“Since dinner with the parentals is postponed, what would you like to eat?” he asked as he sat down beside me on his couch.
Unlike mine, his couch was plush and so comfortable I could have happily slept there for eternity. It was masculine, yet still decorative, and definitely something I would have picked out for him if I’d put the room together at his request. But his mom and Mia had helped him decorate his apartment when he’d moved in.
Not that he stayed there often. He spent so much time in Italy for work, the place was rarely lived in. But a cleaning service came in several days a week to make sure the place didn’t get dusty, and the fridge was stocked in case he returned home on short notice.