“You have a boyfriend,” Jack reminded her, uneasy again.
“And I’m gonna leave him if I ever get out of this fucking time loop,” Carla growled.
“What if you can’t away from him? What if he keeps chasing you?”
“You think I haven’t learned a few things? You think my life has ever been easy? Baby, I’ve been dodging shady men since I was a teenager. Ronnie and his crew can choke on my dust.”
Something dark and foreboding settled in Jack’s stomach, eclipsing any arousal he might’ve felt moments earlier. “What happened?”
Carla shrugged. “I used to get a lot of unwanted attention. I started dancing at clubs when I was way too young. Had a lot of interest, if you know what I mean. Some of it wasn’t good.”
“Stalkers?” Jack guessed.
“Yeah, and perverts,” Carla said, brushing hair behind her ear. She sighed. “I guess it’s a good thing you aren’t pushy. I think I like that about you. Most men jump at the chance to kiss me.Youfucking hesitated.”
At last, he’d donesomethingright. “I don’t want to jump you without your permission,” he said. “It’s only common decency.”
“Yeah,” Carla rolled her eyes again. “You’d be surprised how many men don’t have it.”
Jack wouldn’t, actually. Had overheard enough locker room talk to know otherwise. “Listen, I?—”
“Oh my god,” she groaned, throwing her head back in exasperation. “I’m tired of talking. Come over here and kiss me, already.”
Jack was only too happy to oblige.
He wokein a daze to sunlight streaming beneath the curtains, the phone ringing relentlessly in his ear.
Carla was gone.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
“Hey,”said Jack, after the long trudge up to the house on Castle Drive. For the first time in weeks, his heart was light. Not even Boris’s grunting or the terrible gas station coffee (which always sent him running for the toilets) could put a damper on his mood.
Carla waited on the front porch. A loose magenta skirt fell just past her knees. A crisp, sleeveless shirt was buttoned all the way up to her throat.
Jack hoped he’d have the chance to unbutton it later.
“There you are,” she said, grinning wide. “I was wondering when you’d finally show up.”
“This is the same time I always come,” he reminded her. “I could’ve come earlier if you’d asked.”
“Yeah,” she said, catching his wrist, his hand. His skin was hot where she touched him. “You should’ve. I thought I was gonna have to call you. Come on.”
“What’s the hurry?” he asked, trailing through the door behind her.
She shot him a tight-lip smirk and led him down the hall, past the kitchen. “I just missed you.”
“It hasn’t even been one day,” Jack protested. Her answering laugh was throaty and carefree.
“Yeah, but I got nothing else going on and Imissedyou,” shesaid. She shook her head. “It was just… a bit of a mindfuck, falling asleep next to you and waking up to Ronnie’s goddamned farts.”
“Oh.” Jealousy prickled alongside disgust. “I… I’m sorry.”
“It’s OK,” she said, grasping his hand again, lacing their fingers together. “You’re here now. I just… I think maybe next time I shouldn’t fall asleep.”
Jack nodded stiffly. Tried to ignore the sting of betrayal. Falling asleep next to Carla was grounding, left him feeling safe and content for the first time in weeks. Tangled up together, sweat-drenched and panting, their clothes tossed across the floor of the guest room like confetti, smooth jazz spinning on the record player, he’d never felt more at home. Alright, so maybe he was in a mobster’s house, fucking his girlfriend, but so what? Tomorrow wasn’t a new day. They’d wake up in their own beds and none of this would’ve happened. If they wanted to, they could convincethemselvesit had never happened.
