“Does it involve inserting something into one of your orifices?”
He lets out a booming laugh. “How did you know?”
“Seriously?”
“No!” He smacks my shin lightly. “You’ll never figure it out. It’s incredibly random, but it’s something I used to do before…”
“Roland?”
“Yeah.” He sighs. “I had a whole different life before I got involved with him.”
Pip doesn’t like talking about his relationship with Roland and rarely mentions his life prior to that as well. I know he spent his childhood moving from one foster home to another and that as soon as he hit legal age, he took off for New York. But he’s kept pretty much everything else under wraps.
“How’s Clancy doing?” Pip asks, eager to change the subject, no doubt.
“He’s great. I’m the one who feels terrible about being such an imposition.”
“You’re not. He loves you, and I’m sure he enjoys the company. I get the feeling he’s lonely sometimes. Did he ever date anyone after your grandmother died?”
“Not that I’m aware of, no. I always figured Grandma was his great love, and I think for many people in that generation, theywere one and done. If something happened to their one, that was it. No more love.”
“That’s kind of sad, kind of romantic.”
“I know. Plus, he ended up getting stuck raising his grandkids, so I imagine that didn’t leave a lot of spare time for dating.”
“That’s more sad and less romantic. Where is he now?”
“He went to the grocery store.”
“Cool. Want to keep listening to music?”
“Sure.”
“In that case, slide over and make room, you couch hog.”
I grin, shuffling over as Pip slips in under the blanket with me. We spend the next few hours talking nonstop with Billie Eilish on repeat in the background. And for the first time in two days, I manage to forget that I’ve pushed Maverick out of my life.
34
Maverick
I’m getting ready to meet up with Candice to nail down the final details for next week’s talent show fundraiser when a loud knock on the front door startles me.
“Just a minute,” I yell out from the bedroom, doing a final once-over of my outfit in the mirror. A tailored camel-colored wool overcoat over a burgundy cashmere turtleneck, dark slate jeans, and brown leather Chelsea boots. “Nice,” I say to my reflection, nodding in satisfaction.
I feel guilty for being so caught up in what’s been going on with Jackson that Candice has been saddled with all the work. I asked for her help, not for her to carry the entire workload. But she has, and I owe her. Big-time.
My visitor bangs away again. “Okay, okay. I’m coming. Hold your horses.”
I leave the front door unlocked, so it’s not Wagner or Sammy. They both wander in whenever they like. Adjusting the collar of my coat, I open the door and am met with a furious-looking Clancy.
“You and I need to talk.”
“Not in the mood,” I say, closing the door in his face, but his foot blocks its path.
“Tough luck, sunshine. You’re going to listen to what I have to say.” He forces the door open and bulldozes past me.
“Please. Come in. Make yourself at home,” I mutter under my breath.
