I pick at a loose thread on one of the cushions. “In all seriousness, there’s nothing to report. He’s quiet, tidy, polite. Almost too polite. It’s like he’s on his best behavior. But I guess it’s only been like a day, he could turn out to be a serial killer, still.”
Daphne ignores my serial killer comment; we both know that’s not true. “And you’re waiting for him to crack?”
“Maybe.” I sit up a little straighter. “Nobody’s that perfect. I keep waiting for him to snap at me or to tell me to get out of his space. Something. But he hasn’t. He just keeps… being nice.” And hot, he’s always hot, but I don’t tell her that.
“Jay is a really good guy.”
“I’m getting that, but like, do you think he has any skeletons in his closet? I mean, hell, mine is like a walk through a haunted house by comparison.”
She snorts but recovers. “He dated a girl for a little bit, but they didn’t work out. I don’t know much else about his love life.”
“I don’t know why I’m even talking about it like it’s my business; it absolutely is not.”
Daphne narrows her eyes for a beat, and I probably should tell her what happened at the store today, just to be totally transparent. So I do…
“Wait, you did what? Liv! You’re supposed to be the easy roommate that doesn’t cause him grief.” She buries her head in her hands. “I vouched for you!”
“In my defense, I got 10 percent off, which means that I could buy the better mattress that I wanted.”
“At the expense of your brand-new roommate. Poor Jay, I bet he was lit up like a beacon.”
I chuckle. “He was. Adorable. But don’t worry, I’m not going to go there. I can control myself.” I hide behind the wordcontrolbecause it feels like a layer of protection, like the discipline will stop me from making really bad choices.
“What are you even going to do with that bed when your campus housing comes through?”
“Well,” I say, leaning back against the couch, “I’m planning on begging them to let me furnish it with that at the very least. I need a good bed. I deserve a good bed. Jay’s bed is good, but I swear we will not be sleeping together in it.”
“Mmhmm,” she hums, that knowing little sound that says she doesn’t entirely believe me but loves me anyway.
The thing is, she isn’t wrong to doubt me, I’ve been wrong before—spectacularly. I don’t want to dive into something with Jay and ruin every last shred of hope I felt leaving Washington. I’m finally learning how to take my life back. Small doses, shaky steps. Nothing about my life is linear, but every time I draw a line for myself and keep it, I feel like I’m inching closer to someone I might actually recognize again.
“Besides,” I say lightly, “I have a date tonight.”
Her head snaps up. “Youwhat? How? Did you meet someone between sleeping in Jay’s bed and buying furniture?”
“An app.”
Her eyes narrow again. “Please tell me it’s not Spark.”
“No, that’s the hookup one.”
“I know,” she says flatly. “That’s how Finn met Foxx.”
“Oh. Right. Well, no. This one’s just a normal dating app.”
Daphne bites her lip, studying me. “You sure you’re ready for that, Liv?”
I meet her eyes, a little too fast. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Because the truth is, I want to be ready. I need to be.
Chapter seven
Jay
Anotherday,anotherrejectionemail. This time from Seattle. I didn’t really want to live that far, but I guess I don’t need to worry because they didn’t want me anyway.
So to keep my mind and hands busy, I cook.
