like maybe we were just going to sit among the remnants of Brandon’s life and ignore it. That would have been my preference. But no such luck. And Jason had done more than enough to earn the right to ask.
“Brandon died two years ago yesterday,” I said. “I visited his grave. I gave blood. And then I came home and decided to finally go through his stuff.”
Jason’s eyes took on a look of understanding. “That must have been very difficult for you.”
“It was. It is. But it’s time.”
Chapter 15
Jason
♪ I Want It All | COIN
Sloan kicked me out last night at 7:00. She said she had some things she needed to do. I think she was going to finish packing up Brandon’s clothes. I’d have offered to help, but it didn’t really feel like my place.
I didn’t like leaving her. I knew it was crazy, but I honestly wanted to sleep on her couch again, just to be near her. It felt like I was supposed to be near her.
My Minnesota trip was the day after tomorrow, and I wasn’t going to see her the whole weekend. Fuck.
I’d been on my best behavior yesterday, holding back from kissing her the way I really wanted to, because I knew if things escalated like they had the other night after our first date, she’d kick me out. The last thing I wanted was to lose my newfound house privileges. I decided I would only kiss her on the porch, coming and going, until she was ready for more.
It wasn’t easy.
She wouldn’t see me for breakfast this morning, another disappointment. She said she had things to do. I looked forward to dinner, though. Having The Huntsman’s Wife cook for you was an honor of the highest degree.
It was a brutal hour and a half in traffic to downtown LA. I called Sloan after I checked in at the front desk at my publicist’s office.
Sloan answered, talking to someone else in the background. “What? Uh, no. But thanks.” She sounded amused.
“Who was that?” I asked, thinking maybe she was with Kristen.
I sat in the waiting area drinking a Fiji Water. The entire place was white. Even the receptionist wore white. Framed photos of Pia with her famous clients were the only pops of color on the walls.
“I have no idea who that was. I think I just got hit on,” she said, disbelief in her voice.
“What did he say to you?”
“It was weird.”
I sat up. “Was it inappropriate?”
“What? No.” She laughed. “He asked me for my number. Then he said if I don’t give it to him, him and his friends are going to sing ‘You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’’? I don’t get it.”
I snorted. “Was the guy wearing naval dress whites, by chance?”
“How did you know?”
“You’ve never seen Top Gun?”
“No.”
I shook my head with a chuckle. “Well, I know what we’re watching later. So what are you doing today?” I asked, putting my ankle over my knee, leaning back into the couch. I checked my watch. My appointment wasn’t for another ten minutes.
“I’m at the car wash right now. Then I have to go to Vons to get stuff to make dinner…”
“And what’s for dinner?”
“I’m thinking chicken Provençal? I have to see how the produce looks. And then I need to go to the mall.”
“The mall? For what?”
She paused. “Just…something.”
She was being evasive, so my interest immediately spiked. “Something?”
“I’m not telling you. It’s between Tucker and me. He and I are not friends right now.”
I’d left Tucker at Sloan’s house last night since I was going to be gone all day today and I was going over there later anyway. Besides, he liked it better there, and I didn’t blame him.
“Really? I thought he was an angel.”
She scoffed. “Turns out I was wrong about that.”
“What did he do? Give me a hint.”
“He just…He ate something he shouldn’t have eaten.”
Fucking Tucker.
“Can I pay to replace it?”
She laughed. “No, definitely not. I got it. He’s going to spend a few hours in doggy prison thinking about what he’s done.”
“Doggy prison?”
“The laundry room. It’s not Guantanamo Bay like the crate, but it’ll do.”
She was never going to stop giving me shit about the crate. “Okay, now you really have to tell me.”
She sighed into the phone. “Your dog—”
“My dog? I thought we were coparenting?”
I could tell she was smiling by the pause. “No, he’s definitely your dog today. Your dog ate about two dozen pairs of my underwear.”
My burst of laughter made the receptionist look up