Page 70 of Hold You Close
Me? I’m struggling with everything, and I miss you. I want to open a bottle of wine and have you come over. I’ve been so alone since I lost you. So alone. Well, I guess I should say that I was. I felt like there was no way out of the pain of losing you, but then your stupid brother broke me down. I don’t know how the hell it happened, but here I am, in his house, about to go to his bed.
Yup.
His freaking bed. As if the first go around didn’t end in disaster, right? I know, I know, he’s not the same kid he was. I hear you loud and freaking clear, but . . . he’s . . . Ian. He’s the guy that somehow always gets to me.
God, Sab, today he was that charming guy all over again. The guy who made my heart race and all I wanted was to be with him. I think I need to let go of all the past and forgive him. I should see him for who he is now, and that’s the guy who, despite all my hate, has made me feel . . . different.
I’ll say this to you because you’re the only person I trust. I could fall in love with him so easily, but I won’t. I can’t, right? It would be stupid because we’ll never work.
Okay, I lied to you and I can’t do that. I’m going to fall in love with him because he’s Ian and I’ve always loved him.
Damn it.
Oh, and since you’ll never read this I can tell you all the details. We had sex. We had really, hot, sweaty, dirty sex. We did it in bed and then against the wall. Like, the sex you read about in the romance novels. Which I kept, by the way. I figure if you love that Jack Valentini guy so much, I’ll read it and maybe torture Ian with how hot he is. We both know how much he loved it when you told him the stories.
I love you. I miss you. I think about you every day.
* * *
Love,
London
* * *
“Aunt London,” Morgan’s voice says in my ear.
Shit.
I close the laptop, hoping she didn’t read over my shoulder. Especially since I wrote about dirty sex.
“Yes?”
“Is it true that boys are mean to you when they like you? I mean, we know Uncle Ian is mean to you because he’s dumb, but are they all dumb?”
“Who’s being mean to you?” I ask quickly, my hackles raised.
I’m not a mom but these tiny people are like my kids. I may not have birthed them but I’ve been around since their mom pushed them out. So, they’re mine.
“No one.” Morgan comes around and sits in front of me on the coffee table. “It’s just this boy I like is always such a jerk. He makes fun of me sometimes, and then when his friends aren’t around, he tells me I’m pretty.”
Of all the people who she should ask for advice, I’m not the best choice. I’m sort of destined to be a spinster with a cat named after her favorite singer. My life choices regarding love haven’t really been stellar.
“Have you asked your uncle or brother?”
“Gross. No.”
I laugh. “Okay, well, they’re both boys. They probably know a little more about this than me.”
“They’re dumb.”
“This is true, but Morgan, your uncle was definitely mean to me and I think he likes me a lot.”
Her smile grows and she scrunches her shoulder. “I know. It’s so cute. He was stressing out so much about today. I really think he likes you.”
“My point is that sometimes we’re really mean to people we love because feelings can be so extreme.”
She leans forward, elbows resting on her knees and her head on her hands. “So you love him then?”
