She rolled her eyes. “Dream on, Jockey.”
“Want more?” I asked, forking up another bite. “Open wide.”
She went right back to furious, giving me a glare that would have killed a weaker beast. She pressed her lips into a line, snatching the fork back from me and taking a bite.
“I’m not a child,” she snapped.
I leaned down close to her. “Then don’t play games. If you’re still mad at me after you eat, you can yell at me some more. But right now, you’re gonna eat, Sweet Cheeks. No more arguing until you’re full. Got it?”
She batted her eyelashes and gave me a simper. “Yes, Daddy.”
This woman. She really had no idea what she was doing to me. How much I wanted to pin her bratty ass to the dining room table and have her screaming for Daddy.
But that wasn’t where we were. She was upset with me for trying to help.
I returned to my side of the table, somewhat defeated. “I takeyou seriously, Jessie. I really thought I was being helpful.”
She dropped the attitude and gave me a morose smile. “You are. You’re just too nice.”
I poked my fork around my plate. “I just think you’re not used to someone treating you nice. You’re suspicious when someone’s nice to you. That happens when someone’s mean to you a lot.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” she groaned. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. Everything feels so out of control.”
I nudged her foot under the table to get her to look at me. She was starting to spiral. “You’re eating dinner with your friend.”
“Yeah, at his apartment that I currently haven’t paid for. That’s next to the apartment I shared with my long-term boyfriend.”
“Jessie, you’re not paying me to live here. This is your home. You don’t need to pay me for it to be your home.”
She scowled. “I will pay you, because I have to pull my weight.”
I tapped my lips, thinking. She really wasn’t going to let it go. “What if you make me a suit instead?”
She gave me a blank stare.
“You’re a seamstress, right?”
“Correct.”
“Well, I usually have some weird guy make my suits. I’d rather give you the business. And it’d probably be cheaper than paying rent and I’ll get a dank suit out of it.”
“Do you really wear suits that much?” she asked.
I totally forgot that Jessie was in factnota puck bunny and knew jack shit about the NHL. “We’re required to wear them on game days, to and from the game.”
Her expression finally lightened. “Holy smokes, Jockey. I had no idea. I could probably get rich off your team alone.”
“Make me a good one and you know I’ll put in a good word for you, Sweet Cheeks. I’d market the shit out of you.”
She sat thinking for a moment. Her next words were quiet. “Because you feel guilty?”
God, was it Cole that made her so unsure of herself? WhenJessie was at her most fiery, she was a force to be reckoned with. But vulnerable and self-doubting? I hated seeing that in her.
“Because you’re my friend and I assume you do good work.”
“This is actually not a terrible plan,” she said, taking a bite of her dinner.
“I’m full of good ideas. I’m excellent best friend material. And,” I said, gesturing to her rapidly emptying plate, “I’m a remarkable chef.”
