Good With His Hands (Good in Bed #1)- Lauren Blakely Page 0,70

she collapses onto her overstuffed flamingo pink couch. “He seems like a dreamboat, doesn’t he?”

“I meant the car-eating part,” I say, “but absolutely. Big Ben is a very sexy clock. Probably has a super swoony accent too.”

“Totally. I have great taste,” she agrees with a sigh before stretching a limp hand toward the fridge. “Cold-pizza me? Please? After all that lifting and carrying, I’m starving to death.”

“No way. I’m taking you out for real food to celebrate your new digs and new neighborhood, and the blow-out Galentine’s Day pie orders you’ve racked up so far.”

Gigi’s weary expression gives way to a pleased one. “Your mom is so happy. She thinks I’m a wizard. I keep telling her it’s just the new ads I put up on social media, but she won’t listen.”

“As little as my mom understands social media advertising, you might as well be a wizard. Or a witch. I think I’d rather be a witch. Better outfits.”

Gigi hums in agreement. “Yes. You’d rock a sexy witch look. You should try that when Jesse comes this spring. Surprise him in a pointy hat and nothing else.”

“Halloween is probably a more appropriate time for dress-up.”

“Anytime is a good time for dress-up.” Gigi swings her arm toward her bedroom and dramatically pronounces, “To my closet. We shall dress for dinner in feathers and pearls!”

So, we play dress-up before we go for Indian food. I fall so deeply in love with Gigi’s cherry-red feather boa that she insists I take it home to live with me and promise to do wicked things with it.

And I’m so glad I do.

When Jesse lets himself into my place with his key a month later, takes one look at me posed at the kitchen table in that boa and nothing else, and drops his luggage with a thud, every minute spent shivering in the cold apartment air is worth it.

“I’m so fucking in love with you,” he says, scooping me up and charging through my tiny living room to the bedroom.

“Same,” I agree, laughing as he tosses me on the mattress.

But I’m not laughing three days later when he has to rush back to L.A. to address some problems with the vintage race cars on the set of a new biopic.

We’re good at managing the distance—staying in touch and in sync and falling more in love with every passing day—but every time we say goodbye it gets a little harder.

I don’t want to stand on the sidewalk in front of my building and wave as his Uber lurches into traffic.

I don’t want him to go.

The end of spring is tougher. It’s even cooler and rainier than usual, and the flowers bursting into bloom in the park don’t lift my spirits the way they normally do.

But every time I’m tempted to blow my nest egg on a last-minute flight, I remind myself that, soon, Jesse will be home for an entire month. He’s taking June off so we can relive all our greatest hits from last summer. We’re going to hit the beach, try a bunch of new restaurants, paint at the graffiti festival where I was lucky enough to score an entire six-by-eight chunk of wall for our next masterpiece, and head upstate to give camping another go—this time at a glamping campground with swanky tents that feature adjoining bathrooms.

I’m not sure how you put a bathroom in a tent; I’m just glad I won’t have to brave the woods to pee in the middle of the night and that we’ll be roughing it on five-hundred thread-count sheets.

It’s going to be the best summer ever.

And then he’ll go away again, my inner voice mutters, but I shut that pity party down before it can get started.

Yes, a lot of my business is tied to being in New York—my window-painting side hustle is now at least a third of my monthly revenue—but I can design menus and album covers from anywhere. If it gets too hard to be without Jesse, I can pack my bags for the West Coast.

He’s made it clear I’m welcome any time—that he would love for me to shack up in his Hollywood Hills bungalow with him, in fact.

But he never pressures me. He knows Gigi and I are closer than ever and that I’ve never gone more than a few days without having dinner—or at least pie—with my parents.

I love Jesse with all my heart, but I love my family too.

I hate that I might have to choose between them someday soon,