But Jay pushed those thoughts away, the way she did everything else. Just push it back, push it under. Let the past stay buried and gone. That had been her motto.
Until the past had come back to haunt her personally.
Seeing Nicholas wandering around her apartment was so odd. Whether he was parked on the loveseat with his laptop in one of his old T-shirts or hauling her things out to the curb, muscles straining, the domesticity of it all made her feel shy with him. She tried not to look too long or too hard—a hang-up that wasn’t shared by her neighbors. One little old lady circled the block three times with her exhausted little spaniel, just to watch a shirtless Nicholas stacking boxes.
Jay walked out to her enclosed balcony and looked down at the U-Haul, seeing herself twenty years ago, tossing out all the things her mother had branded as “too low-class” for their new lives.
(You’re still your mother’s daughter, Justine)
She unlocked her phone, scrolling mindlessly, before sliding it back into the pocket of her hoodie. No new messages from her mother. Strange. It wasn’t like her to give up like that.
I guess she doesn’t like it when I fight back.
Nicholas set down a stack of folded plastic dining chairs with a clatter that made Jay look back down at the street. The chairs were painted teal and so badly faded that the metal beneath was showing in places. She’d gotten them for company and then never used them. In this neighborhood, they’d be gone by the end of the day.
He’d taken his shirt off and now his back was glistening withsweat. As she watched, he pushed his hair out of his eyes with the back of his wrist. And of course, there was that little old lady, clutching her poor dog’s leash like her life depended on it, staring at him like he was a god.
Nicholas noticed the old woman and waved—mean, thought Jay, recognizing the mockery in the gesture—and then he looked up and caught her eye. He lowered his arm, and stood with his hands at his hips, letting her look. Jay’s legs twitched and she gripped the rail more tightly.
“I’m coming up, blue jay,” he called out. “Let me in.”
Jay was pretty sure she didn’t imagine how the other woman’s shoulders sank dejectedly.
Shaking her head, she went to the fridge and took out one of the bottles of green juice he’d gotten for her at the store, before going down the stairs and meeting him at the door. She could smell the sweat on his skin, dewy and animal, like wet hay. He wiped his palms on his shorts, blinking sweat from his eyes, radiating heat. “Is that for me?”
“You looked hot.”
He laughed involuntarily as they walked into her room, his chest hitching with the movement. The bands of muscle along his sides rippled. “You think I look hot?”
“That wasn’t what I meant.”
“Are you blushing? That’s so cute.” He unscrewed the cap and took a deep swig before making a face. She wasn’t expecting the wrinkled nose, or the sheepish grin, which somehow made him even more attractive. “And that’s the bitterest fucking thing I’ve ever tasted.”
“Sorry. That’s the kale and spirulina. It’s all that’s cold.”
“Don’t apologize.” He took another bracing sip, not quiteable to hide his distaste. “Are you ready to move out tomorrow?”
“I think so.” She leaned back against the chipped Formica counter, wondering if her landlord would spring to replace it now that she was leaving. “I thought it would be harder to leave, but I’m starting to realize that there was nothing keeping me here but memories of things that don’t really exist anymore.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” He gave her arm a teasing little flick. “I like having you all to myself.”
“Thanks, Nick.” She pretended to study the box on the counter marked KITCHEN, trying to force out the thought that she was essentially packing herself up like a possession, too. “What do your clients think about you being AFK like this?”
“They have my number if they really need to reach me.” He handed the bottle to her. “Don’t worry about that.”
She turned the bottle over in her hands. “I’m worried about your job. I mean, you onlyjustgot through sensitivity training. You really don’t want to upset your investors.”
“Fuck the investors. And fuck sensitivity training.” Nicholas picked up his shirt from where he’d discarded it on the counter and dabbed his face with it. “I want you to be happy.”
Happy, she thought. But on whose terms? His? Would he throw his career away for that?
And would she be expected to throw her freedom away in return?
“I know that look.” Nicholas dropped his now-sweaty shirt back on the counter, which nearly made her protest until she realized that they wouldn’t be her counters for much longer. “As soon as we get back to Hollybrook, you’re going to expect us to keep up the façade that I don’t want you, so you can feel better about whateverthisis.”
He made a gesture, flicking his fingers between them. Jay glared at him, to hide how badly rattled she was that he had perceived her so fully. “That is not what I was thinking.”
“You have no game face, blue jay. I can see right through you—even when you lie.” His voice was nearly seductive, she thought, except for a mocking lilt of cruelty. “You keep accusing me of keeping you around for a quick and dirty fling, but I’m not the one who fucks with my eyes closed.”
