“I know which ones you like best.” Mom gets up, picks up the cup that’s sitting on the table in front of her, and comes over to us. “Is there still enough coffee?”
“When has there ever not been enough coffee?” Dad asks with a theatrical sigh.
Mom kisses him on the cheek. “Never.”
I look at Jase, who is observing the whole thing with a mixture of amusement and longing. My heart feels heavy as I remember what he told me about how he lost his home last year. He didn’t mean his parents’ house.
I nudge him gently and walk over to the dining table, carrying our plates, while Mom and Dad talk about our household’s coffee consumption.
“Zoe, can you please tell your mother that drinking too muchcoffee is unhealthy?” Dad gives me a pleading look, but I shake my head apologetically.
“I can’t, because I’d like some too. Can you bring me a cup, Mom?”
She gives me a conspiratorial grin. “Sure thing. You too, Jase?”
He stiffens very slightly before relaxing again, but I notice it anyway. He clears his throat, his voice a little hoarse as he answers. “Yes, thanks.”
“Still with milk, no sugar?”
He nods.
“Zoe?”
“Me too.”
Humming, Mom takes two cups out of the cupboard and pours coffee for us while Dad watches her, shaking his head. Mom comes over and puts the cups down on the table in front of us.
“Nice to have you back.” Smiling, she musses Jase’s hair as if it hasn’t been a year since she last did it.
Jase looks at me and smiles, and my heart skips a beat. “Nice to be here.”
Chapter 45
Jase
So much shit has happened in the last few years. My life is a disaster, but sometimes I’m almost grateful for it. Otherwise, we would never have moved to Boston, and I would never have met you.
—Jase
My heart feels strangely light as I lie back in my own bed that evening, Zoe snuggled up in my arms. We’ve spent practically the whole day in bed, moving from her room in her parents’ house back to the dorm. From her bed to mine. Now she’s lying next to me, tracing large circles on my chest, and somehow everything’s fine.
What is this thing between us?
Everything.
And it really is. It’s remarkable how far away Mom’s party seems, and the fight with Dad. My breakdown in Zoe’s treehouse. But it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours, and everything has changed. Because of her.
“Why haven’t I ever seen this show?” Zoe asks, snapping me out of my thoughts and reminding me thatPeaky Blindersis flickering across the screen of my laptop.
“Because you have a weakness forGilmore Girlsand all the doctor shows in the world.”
She grins. “That’s right. I think—” she breaks off as there’s a knock at the door.
“That must be Skye. I haven’t answered her thousand messages yet.”
Groaning, I swing my legs out of bed and go to the door. I open it—and immediately wish that I hadn’t. Mom is standing in the hallway, her hair pulled up in a messy bun that I’ve never seen before. She’s wearing jeans and an oversized hoodie. I’m momentarily shocked she’d leave the house dressed this way. She’s pale, and her eyes are red like she’s been crying.
“Mom, what are you doing here?” I ask.
