“You said it was fake.”
My heart squeezes up into my throat as I blink about thirty times. “It is.”
“So why is he buying you expensive lingerie that no one can see?”
The silence stretches for too long for there to be a reasonable explanation.
“Hazel!” she bursts out. “Are you two messing around?”
“I don’t know,” I burst back. “Sort of. Not really. He sleeps over. We fooled around once but he wouldn’t let me touch him and we”—I wince—“send pictures back and forth?”
It doesn’t sound great out loud.
She looks like I told her unicorns were real. “What kind of pictures?”
“Sexy ones,” I admit, sounding strangled.
Her head tips back, laughing. “I knew it. You like him.”
“I don’t know.” My heartbeat feels erratic and I force myself to shrug.
“You do. Admit it.”
“Fine.” I shrug again, eyes darting around the room. “I like him.”
Fuck. I said it. My throat knots. I really need to get a hold of this thing. It has an expiration date.
“I like him,” I repeat, worrying my bottom lip.
Her expression softens. “Why do you say it like it’s a bad thing?”
There are a million things I can’t say out loud. Because he can have anyone, so why would he choose me? Because I’m just waiting for the thrill of this to be over for him.
Because I’m ordinary, and guys like Rory Miller are extraordinary.
“I invited him home for Christmas.” I’m still putting the finishing touches on his presents, but I can’t even use him coming home as an excuse since I bought them before I asked him. “I don’t do this kind of thing.”
Pippa’s eyes are soft and watchful, and I love her so much because there isn’t a lick of judgment in her expression, but at the same time, I feel like she can see deep inside my head. “What if you did, though?”
My stomach tightens.
“Don’t you want more?”
I think about what Rory said in postgame press tonight and how it didn’t sound fake. When I put the past behind me, being with Rory is effortless.
No. It’s more than that. It’s incredible.
I don’t answer Pippa’s question, but she can see it all over my face.
“He fit right in with us at dinner,” I say instead. My mouth twists as I think about him and Dad talking, and how at ease Rory looked. “His family isn’t like ours.”
She gives me a small smile like she can see something I can’t.
“I got upset afterward,” I admit. “I started crying on the street right in front of him.”
Her eyes widen. “Why?”
Shame and worry clog my throat as I swallow. “Because of Mom. The stuff she was saying.”
Pippa hums, nodding.
I think about what Rory said, how I should talk to Pippa about it, and I pull my knees closer to me, tracing the edges of my phone case. “It’s supposed to be my calling.” My brow knits. “Helping people feel good about themselves and their bodies.”
She sighs. “These things have been the truth to her for her entire life.” Pippa plays with the duvet, running her fingertips over the seams. “Change takes time, and we don’t know what’s going on in her head.” She squeezes my knee. “Keep being a safe place for her to land. When she’s ready, she’ll let you know.”
I nod, looking away and blinking fast as my eyes sting. “When did you get so wise?” She laughs, and I grin at her. “Love you.”
“Love you, too,” she whispers.
We settle back against the headboard and put Bridesmaids on. Halfway through the movie, my phone lights up.
It’s from Rory. My eyes go wide. A video. This thing we’re doing has escalated to videos. The video thumbnail shows him seated in his hotel room, shirtless. Anticipation thrills through me, and my curiosity is at an all-time high.
“What’s that?” Pippa asks in my ear, and I jump, jerking my phone away to hide it. The smile she gives me says she knows exactly what it is.
“Nothing.” My voice is strangled and my eyes dart around. I look so guilty.
She wiggles her eyebrows. “He’s sending you videos now, huh?”
“No.” I shake my head, staring at the video thumbnail. “I don’t know. Yes.”
“Are you going to watch it?”
God, I want to.
I gesture at her. “It’s weird.”