“I’ll be fine.” I also hope that we find the right bed for her today and their delivery is fast.
I hold up the mugs. “Do you drink coffee?”
She wrinkles her nose a little. “Usually I’m a peach tea girl. Actually, decaf peach tea, because, yeah, I need to cut back. But coffee is good until I go shopping.”
“Decaf coffee it is, then,” I say, clearing my throat as I make us both a drink. Her fingers brush mine when she takes the mug, but it’s enough to send a jolt straight through me. Too early for that kind of contact. I clear my throat and shake off whatever that was and pass the milk and sugar over in case she wants them. “So, where are you dragging me to look for this bed?”
She yawns, covering her mouth. “I was looking online last night, and there’s a couple places downtown, figured we could check them out. One has a discount deal going.”
“What time do they open?” I ask, pushing my glasses up my nose.
“Nine-thirty.”
I check my watch. “We’ve got about an hour, then. Do you want to shower first?”
She nods, adding two scoops of sugar to her mug, which makes my teeth ache. “I won’t be long. Then once we’re home, I’m going to Daphne’s for brunch. I need to snuggle that beautiful baby girl of theirs. Then I have a date later.”
“You work fast, haven’t you only been in town for like five seconds?” I say, sipping my coffee.
“I downloaded an app last night when I couldn’t sleep.”
I don’t know why I’m shocked. Liv has never been the girl to wait until things come to her. Everything I know about her tells me she’s impulse-driven. Good for her for making shit happen. “Well, make sure you give Rosie an extra squeeze from me.”
She grins into her mug. “I will. You should come, you know. Since they’re your best friends, too.”
I glance at her. “You want to spend that much time with me?” The question slips out before I can think about what that could mean. “I mean, I figured you’d want to bitch about me to Daphne.”
“What do I have to bitch about? The fact that you cook, or that you gave up your bed for me?” Her laugh is soft but brittle. “Come on, Jay. You’ve been incredible, way better than any of my ex-boyfriends, let alone friends. You’ve treated me better than I deserve.” The moment the words leave her lips, panic makes her eyes widen slightly, and my head tilts at that comment. It’s only a flicker of something she covers almost instantly, but I catch it anyway. The tiny wince, the way her eyes drop to her cup like she wishes she could rewind the last three seconds. Better than she deserves? What happened to her to make her believe that?
“Bad relationship history?” I ask, careful, not prying, but giving her room.
She snorts, though the sound is empty. “You could say that.” She leans against the counter, one hip cocked, sipping her coffee. “But that’s in the past, I don’t want to think about it. I’m on the up, great new roomie, fresh start, dating, life is going to be great.”
I watch her a moment longer, that flinch still lodged in my mind. Daphne gave me the neat version of why she transferred, but if that response is linked to the reason, then this doesn’t look neat. It looks messier. Messy enough that maybe it’s not my business—at least not yet.
I have to forcibly tell myself not to ask again because the handful of times I’ve met her, she carries an unmistakable confidence. She’s the one who people turn to look at when she walks into a room. But right now, her words are contradictingwhat she’s showing me, and that brightness seems to be missing, and I want to figure out why. It’s no secret that when my friends and I were all in college together, I was the fixer of the group, the reliable one. The calm-in-the-storm type. That’s exactly why I’m sleeping on my own damn couch right now. Because Daphne knew I’d say yes, and she trusted me not to mess this up.
And I won’t.
But there’s a girl in my apartment who I’m pretty sure has a broken heart, and I want to help her fix it. Not in a “get under someone new” kind of way. Liv’s a knockout, there’s no denying it, but that’s not what she needs from me. I can tell. Having grown up with three older sisters, seeing their breakups firsthand, you notice these kinds of things. But still, I’d love to understand what kind of person could make someone like her look so damn tired underneath all that confidence she wears like armor.
Whoever it is, I’m positive he never deserved her anyway.
Chapter six
Liv
Steamcurlsaroundme,and I curse under my breath when I realize my wash bag is still in the bedroom. Of course it is. Half my life is still in my suitcase, and I’m not exactly brave enough to parade back through Jay’s apartment in a towel, not yet at least. I’ve been here for mere hours, and I’m sure he’s rethinking his life choices.
The mirror is fogged when I step out, dragging my hand across the glass, and my reflection reappears in streaks. I hold my own gaze. I look fine. Normal. Like someone who knows exactly what she’s doing. That’s the goal: to look okay until I believe it.
I re-dress in the clothes I’d worn in here and slip out into the hallway, the carpet cool against my bare feet. The mumbles of the TV drift through the apartment, and I spot Jay stretched out on the sofa, one arm behind his head, and I take him in for a second before quickly finishing getting ready in the bedroom.
A few minutes later, dressed and ready to go, I drop onto the cushion next to him.
His head turns, and I watch his chest rise a little deeper. “Did you”—he inhales, eyes flicking toward me—“did you use my body wash?”
I freeze, trapping my bottom lip between my teeth. “I need to go shopping. I hope that’s okay?”
