Then he left without making a commitment. Because he’d become king of no commitments.
And, right then, she wasn’t entirely sure if she was still sad about that.
Instead of stewing on it, she hurried back to the kitchen. By the time she got there, Jack was missing, leaving only Kitty and Yelena.
“Simone’s tucking them in,” Yelena said, lifting her mug to her lips. “Jack’s phone rang,” she added with a shrug. “Sounded important. Something about socks?”
It always sounded important. Even the bits about socks.
“I said nothing to him,” Kitty added, holding her hand up like she was swearing in. “I figured you’d want to know.”
“It’s true,” Yelena said. “She didn’t.”
“And Kitty has something she should probably tell you,” Simone said. “Something important.”
“No, I—”
April couldn’t be certain, but it looked like Yelena kicked Kitty under the table.
“Ow,” Kitty finished with.
“Kitty?” Yelena said. “Tell her. She’s going to find out.”
Uh… “Going to find out what?”
“I went on a date with Beast,” Kitty said. “But you have backbend Jack, so I’m sure you don’t mind.”
April’s lips tilted into a grin. “Beast? My Beast?”
“I think he’s her Beast now,” Yelena said with a wry smile.
Huh.
“That’s kind of perfect,” April said, lifting her tea to her lips to blow on it.
Kitty and Beast? Who would’ve thought? Then again, it made about as much sense as what April and Jack were doing. So what did she know?
The steam from her tea rose to tickle her nose. There was a lot of space between a dating app and what she’d promised Kent when they’d made vows for him to break.
Apparently, inside that space was where she found Jack.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“This has great potential for shit, but we can’t deny the potential for awesome based on the potential for shit. So let’s do this thing.”
—Sarah, California, United States
April
The kids came down from their Disneyland Dad sugar rush and oh boy did they crash hard. She wasn’t sure precisely what Kent had sugared them up with, but given how high they peaked, the tantrums they threw, and how hard they all went to sleep, she’d bet her sex pillow on jelly beans.
She did not look at her open door that pointed right to Jack’s bedroom. His door was, of course, closed. She knew this not because she’d looked, but because she hadn’t heard it open.
Gah.
April hadn’t seen Jack since he’d disappeared into his room earlier before the meltdowns of the century. He hadn’t come out for any of those, not that she blamed him. The only reason she came out was because, as their mother, she was required to.
Now, she lay in bed, flipping through her news feed socials and replying to comments. Patently not glancing at his closed door. Definitely not pushing her ear against it to see if he was still on the phone.
