It felt strange to crawl out of his bed naked. I picked up the neatly folded pile of my clothes from the dresser and headed toward his bathroom, wondering again when Jack had found time to fold them.
Chapter 24
An Emotional Sunday
Being alone in my apartment on Sunday felt lonely after the Saturday I’d spent with Jack. I’d come out of his bathroom smelling like coconut and lavender to find a full breakfast waiting, including freshly cut fruit. Jack admitted to grabbing a few things from the bar’s kitchen downstairs. He’d still been barefoot in jeans, and I’d found myself staring at his ass while he finished browning the sausage.
I wanted to touch Jack more. My fingers itched imagining it.
Over breakfast, he’d asked if I wanted to check out some additional places he’d found for vinyl, which was an enthusiastic “yes” from me. I offered to do the dishes since he’d cooked, but he did them with me, only letting me dry. Our arms brushed in his small kitchen as we cleaned up. I wanted to dance in place with how giddy it made me feel. My body thrummed just from being around him.
After he’d showered, we’d dropped off my car at my apartment, and I’d ridden with him in his truck to a flea market he’d found. I never would have thought to check there. Shopping with Jack was both the same and different from the last time. He was just as great to hang out with, but my eyes kept straying to him more. As if I had permission now.
Even though we were there to look for records, he never complained when my attention was drawn to other booths, and he’d even stopped when he noticed. The concern that I was annoying him faded when he shared interest in whatever caught my eye.
We’d replaced nearly a dozen more records, as well as picked up some new ones. I’d asked Jack to suggest some he liked. I set up one of them to play on my record player on Sunday while I began replacing the broken records with the new ones. I liked Jack’s suggestion of keeping the sleeves of the originals from the Millers. It made it a little easier each time I tucked the broken pieces into the newly purchased sleeve and packed them away into a leftover moving box. I didn’t quite feel ready to throw the broken ones out, even though they’d never be playable again.
Listening to music made me remember the way Jack had looked with a guitar in his hands. I doubted I’d ever lose that image of him in my mind. A part of me wanted a repeat performance, but only for me. Would he ever do that—play privately just for me?
My phone vibrated on the coffee table. I reached for it, smiling at the idea that Jack might be calling. I’d already heard fromSean, who’d checked in and reassured me everything was all right with his husband.
When I saw Neil’s name instead of Jack’s, my smile faded. Neil hadn’t called yet that weekend. I’d hoped he wouldn’t.
I declined the call. After four more calls vibrated in quick succession, all ones I declined, a text came in.
Neil:
Pick up Hailey.
My stomach twisted, and I set the phone down. I just wouldn’t look at it, I told myself, trying to focus on the song playing. The continued vibrations made my shoulders curl in more and more. I finished putting away the replacement records before reaching for the phone again.
The last message made my breath freeze in my lungs.
Neil:
It’s not fair to make me deal with your mom.
With all the other things happening, I’d forgotten about my mother.
Neil:
She’s your problem, not mine.
I cringed. He was right. My parents had always been my baggage alone. I scrolled up the texts, reading through them from the beginning.
Neil:
Stop screening my calls.
This is important.
I need you, Hailey.
That one was harder to read.
Neil:
I need your help.
