“Even better.” She pulled one knee up to her chest as Mrs. Hernandez picked up her kid. “Did he guess anything interesting?”
“Clocked the daddy issues,” Jem said wryly. “But then he guessed my favorite musical would beKinky Boots.”
Tori smirked. “He wishes.”
Choking on a breath, Jem shot her a look. “It’s not that kind of arrangement, remember?”
“Yeah, sorry, my wife let me read your contract, so that’s not gonna fly. You’re just not getting paid extra for”—she looked around to ensure all the kids had gone—“sexy naked time.”
Jesus. Jem rubbed his temple, suddenly aware of the tension headache he’d been fighting off since the pantsing incident. “I can’t believe you get laid more than I do.”
“Super weird for me too. Not that I’m complaining.” She dug the last of the M&M’s out of her pocket, because she was a freak who would save half a single-serving pack for later. She did offer him a couple, though, so he forgave her. “Anyway, you mentioned a real date this weekend. What’s the plan for that?”
Jem stood and grabbed his bag from beside his desk. “No clue. Apparently if River’s not allowed to ask about my personal life, I’m not allowed to ask where we’re going on our first date. Which I think actually means he doesn’t know.”
“Probably,” Tori agreed. “So what are you going to wear?”
When Jem didn’t answer right away—he was busy studying the clock on the wall so she wouldn’t see his blush—she cackled. “You’re gonna wear the white pants.”
“Shut up,” he hissed.
Tori clapped. “Oh my God. Youwantto bone him.”
“Shut up,” he repeated, elbowing her. “It’s been a while, is all.” He’d been debating whether to tell her about the kiss, but that clinched it. He loved Tori like a sister, and she teased him like one. He could save this detail for the inevitable heartbreak reveal, when she’d pity him too much to make fun of him.
Fortunately, these days Tori was plenty distractable; they spent the walk to the staff room to collect their things discussing the latest contenders for the baby’s nursery décor. Ivy wanted a woodland-animal theme. Tori was holding out for planets and spaceships.
Jem was staying out of it. He’d made his contribution to this science project already. That was as close as he was willing to come to the middle of an argument between Tori and Ivy, low-stakes though it might seem.
His first paycheck from River—aside from the initial deposit, which was in a kind of escrow account he couldn’t touch since it was the money he forfeited if he broke the NDA—wouldn’t hit until Monday, so Jem was stuck carpooling with Tori until he could pay to fix the Prius. Tori didn’t mind and Jem was too grateful to complain, but when she dropped him off at home, he tapped his car door as he went by, like a little promise he’d be back.
Friday afternoon he brought in his guitar to play for the kids and then, when pickup was over, got roped into accompanying Tori for a duet of “I’ve Got Flu, Babe,” one of the silly songs they’d made up during their practice teaching. Each verse contained a method of virus transmission that got progressively more disgusting, and by the end of the last verse, the primary school vice principal was crying tears of laughter.
Saturday morning he woke up refreshed, nervous, and half an hour later than he meant to. He scrambled together a quick breakfast of questionable eggs and some American cheese slices and shoved them between two pieces of toast, which he ate in the shower. Not his finest moment, but it got the job done, even if the toast got soggy and he was definitely going to have to clean the tub later.
River was supposed to text him once he pulled into the parking lot at Jem’s building, so when he got a knock on his door instead, he almost jumped out of his skin. A glance through the peephole showed River in distressed jeans and an Oakland A’s raglan with a cut-out V-neck that showed off the top part of a tattoo. He’d put his smooth black hair up with a clip.
He was holding a bouquet of flowers.
Jem took a step back and a moment to compose himself. This was fine. Totally normal and fine. River probably wanted Jem’s neighbors to know he was being romanced.
Jem hoped River was prepared for Mrs. Henderson down the hall to ask about his intentions.
When deep breaths failed to settle his heart, he wiped his palms on his pants and opened the door. “Hey. I thought you were going to wait downstairs?”
River, who had not-so-subtly put the flowers behind his back at the last minute, brought them forward with a flourish. “But then these would be in the car all day, Jem. Sugarplum. Light of my life.”
After a moment, Jem heard a door close at the end of the hallway. Yep—Mrs. Henderson. Sweet lady. Total curtain-twitcher. He shook his head. “Aww, shnookums. You shouldn’t have.”
It felt awkward to invite River into his apartment when they were obviously in very different tax brackets, but it would be weirder to leave him standing in the hallway. He stepped aside to let him in. At least Jem kept his apartment clean.
River rocked back and forth on his heels as he looked around. There wasn’t much to take in—the kitchen and living area were one room, with windows overlooking the scenic parking lot and, beyond it, the highway. Then there was a tiny bathroom and his bedroom. The whole thing was barely larger than River’s weird conversation pit.
“You don’t have to say it’s a nice place,” Jem said dryly when River didn’t comment.
“It’s the perfect size for this bouquet,” River said innocently.
The bouquet took up all available real estate on Jem’s kitchen table. “I don’t actually think I have a vase big enough for this.”
