Tiger Lily : The Interlude (Tiger Lily Trilogy Book 2) by Amélie S. Duncan

Author:Amélie S. Duncan [Duncan, Amélie S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance
Publisher: ASD Publishing
Published: 2015-04-16T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

‡

By the time I reached Mary’s apartment, there was a text waiting for me from David.

You have an open ticket from Boston to Newark waiting for you at the airport. I’ll pick you up in arrivals. Mr. Crane said it’s bought and can’t be refunded.

I shook my head, though I was smiling. Jonas was back and he was already taking over. The fact that he had reached out, and was willing to consider the possibility of us, clouded any of my annoyance at his overseeing my transport back to New York. Strangely, I found it comforting. Perhaps I was giddy over the possibility.

Jonas’s offer of friendship was a step forward. He was seeing me as more than a sexual partner. He missed me and couldn’t stop thinking about me. He had feelings for me. My mind skipped over the part I wasn’t ready to handle—Jonas would choose a new companion to fulfill his sexual needs to avoid mudding the waters with me. Instead of dwelling on the negative, I floated in the possibility.

I skipped up the steps and put the key in the lock. As I swung open the door, my feet bumped into a bag and I almost tripped. On further examination, I realized it was my bag.

“Mary?” I called out.

Mary came into the living room like a whirlwind, her coat swinging around her body, my coat in her hand.

“You took an extra-long run today,” she said as she handed me the coat. “I have class tonight. Did you forget? I can only drive you to the train station if we leave right now.” She paused long enough to say, “Unless you want to stay an extra day? You’re, of course, welcome.”

I smirked. Mary had warned me about her schedule and I had promised to not take too long for the run last night, but I still teased her. “Doesn’t look like it.”

“I’m sorry.” She bit her bottom lip. “We planned it last night and I’m sorry to do this to you. I didn’t want to pack you, but I didn’t want you lugging everything on the bus or wasting money on a taxi. If you want to stay, you can. I want you to stay.”

She reached for my bag and started rolling it back toward her bedroom.

“Stop, Mary,” I said and laughed. “I was only joking. I just hoped for a shower and to pack up, or for us to have a coffee together or something, but that’s fine. I took longer than normal, so it’s my fault.”

I picked up my handbag and took the handle of my trolley from her to roll it back toward the door.

“I already feel guilty packing you and you’re teasing me,” Mary said, but relief crossed her face. “I’m still sorry, but thanks for understanding.”

We shuffled out of the house. I handed her the key, then remembered it was my spare, and put it back on my key ring.

“You know, I don’t have a key to your bachelorette pad,” Mary said.

She opened her trunk and loaded her large, overfilled backpack and my trolley bag.

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