Emma
Bashand I have just gotten home from work and daycare late Friday afternoon when there’s a knock at my door.
I’m not expecting anyone, but I do know Jonas, Theo, and Grey were supposed to be getting back from their camping trip this afternoon.
I hand Bash his normal applesauce packet and ask him to go find Yolko Ono. While he scampers off to check the dining room, I pull up my camera app and check my front door.
My heart leaps. My mouth goes dry. My vagina—nope.
No.
She stays out of this. Permanently closed, thank you very much.
But she’sactinglike she’s not at the sight of Jonas on my front porch.
He’s scuffing a toe along the porch, glancing between the doorbell camera and the door like he’s nervous.
I check my text messages and my phone app, and there’s nothing.
He didn’t call. He didn’t text.
Didn’t give me a heads-up that he was coming over, which is a first.
I glance at Bash, who’s found Yolko Ono and is attempting to persuade her to follow him into the kitchen for afternoon snacks.
No more excuses.
Time to open the door.
“I’m taking a semi-permanent break from acting,” Jonas says before I’ve fully opened the main door.
“I—you—what?” My heart isn’t leaping now. It’s erratically pounding like it’s a drum being played by a toddler.
“Do you like your hot tub?”
“Go back to the acting thing.”
“I’m taking a semi-permanent break. Do you like your hot tub?”
“Those two aren’t related.”
He grins.
No, hesmiles.
A full, broad, eye-crinkling, tooth-flashing, heart-stopping Jonas Rutherford smile.
Heaven help me.
“Acting’s easy. Doesn’t mean it’s what I’m supposed to do with the rest of my life. One more time. Do you like your hot tub?”
“It’s broken.”
“I know.” He lifts a backpack. “Brought tools. And YouTube. Thought I’d try to fix it. But only if you like it.”
I realize I’m licking my lips as I stare at him, and I suck my tongue back into my mouth so fast it makes a weird slurping noise.
He doesn’t notice. Or if he does, he doesn’t care or react like he thinks I’m a dork.
