Page 105 of Hot Mess
Me:Why?
Taylor:You need to just let it go.
Me:Let what go?
Taylor:Her + him. Do not let her have him.
Taylor:CLAIM THE UNICORN
I swallowed a laugh. I was almost regretting telling her about the whole unicorn thing.
Almost.
But the fact was, I told Taylor everything.
Me:If I claim him, they’ll have to see each other sometime.
Taylor:I’m gonna bitch slap her if she flirts with him. Hard.
Taylor:TELL HER THAT.
“What are you doing?”
I looked up to find my sister watching me from the couch. She was flipping through a magazine while she waited for me, dressed and ready, in one of the many outfits she kept on hand at my place since, in her mind, she semi-lived here. Although, of course, she didn’t pay any rent.
“What?” I said.
“You’re snickering to yourself. Who’re you talking to?”
“Just Taylor.”
My phone jingled in my hand.
Taylor:TELL HER.
Me:Love you. Text you later.
I tossed my phone on the counter, and while my chai tea steeped, I decided to go with my new skinny jeans. The ones I’d picked up on a recent Me Day, the sexy, pale-blue ones with all the rips. With a cute, flowy tank top.
I wanted to look hot for Ashley… but not like I was trying too hard.
I was quickly discovering that there was a fine line to walk when you wanted to keep the brakes on, just enough to keep your self-respect… buuut you still wanted a guy to be hot for you. Because you were still hoping to—eventually, somehow—get with him. Since, after all, he was an amazing unicorn who’d taken up residence in the filthiest corners of your mind.
So much so that you’d stupidly, smittenly given him an antique ring, thinking that was an okay thing to do—you know, to alleviate your guilt for trying to tell him you couldn’t work for him (because you wanted to get with him).
Until you actually did it and realized how stupid it was.
I cringed at that awkward memory.
But I was pretty sure Ashley was still hot for me anyway.
For one, he’d basically told me so.
And two, he’d arrived back from England late last night and made plans to see me at basically the first possible opportunity.
I’d been keeping him updated on my progress with his condo while he was away, and he’d seemed happy with the updates I’d sent. I’d had his place completely painted. Some of his new furniture had already been delivered and the rest was coming in soon, along with all the decorative finishes, shelves, and the storage systems I’d ordered. Some of it was already sitting in the back warehouse at the office, but most of it was either being delivered in the next week or two, or I’d pick it up myself.
He’d kept in touch with me, too. He’d sent me photos from some castle he visited, and messaged me a few times just to check in, and yes, to flirt.
