“Thank you,” I said quietly.
Jay looked away, his hands sliding into his pockets. “I’ll grab the cables from my truck. Stay here.”
As he walked back toward the building, I tugged the sweatshirt tighter around myself, hating how right it felt.
When Jay returned, he worked quickly on getting my car up and running. There was no more conversation as he zeroed in on the task.
After some tinkering, the engine turned over on the first try.
“There,” he said, stepping back and closing my hood. “You’re all set.”
I swallowed. “Thank you.”
His eyes met mine, then flickered down to his hoodie that was swallowing my small form.
“You don’t have to give it back right now,” he added,gesturing to the sweatshirt. “Just leave it outside the connecting door.”
I opened my mouth to argue.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, “at work.”
“Okay,” I relented.
He gave me a slight, curt nod. “Drive safe.”
I slid into my car and watched him in the rearview mirror as I drove away. He continued to stand there in the cold next to his truck, hands in his pockets.
I drove home wrapped in his sweatshirt, hating that even with all the lines I’d drawn and all the boundaries I’d tried to set, there was still this feeling.
My feelings didn’t seem to care about boundaries.
And my feelings didn’t seem to care about logic either.
Because I didn’t take the sweatshirt off when I got home.
CHAPTER 36
Ispent the next evening writing until my fingers ached, chasing the escape fictional worlds gave me the way I always did when my thoughts got too loud.
I was halfway through my first draft. The chapters were getting easier to write. I found myself turning to my manuscript more and more, rather than to my books. For a long time, I would hesitate to write because I worried I wasn’t good enough. I’d told myself that surely I could never write anything as inspirational as the works of the authors I loved and adored.
But maybe I was finally starting to believe in myself? Because I was beginning to feel excited about finishing the book. Like maybe it could actually be something.
It was almost ten o’clock when I got a notification on my phone.
I stopped typing and read the message.
Order Delivered.
Package left on the front porch.
I groaned softly.
I’d ordered necessities. A particular brand of pantyliners I refused to live without plus a few other essential items. The kind of package I absolutely did not want sitting unattended on Jay’s front porch.
I debated whether to go through the garage to grab the package or cut through Jay’s side of the house. It was chilly outside, and he was probably asleep anyway. I’d make it quick.
I opened the connecting door and peeked into the living area. It was dark; only a faint lamp was on next to the couch. I waited a second to make sure I didn’t hear anything before hurrying across the plush carpet, past the massive fireplace, and to the front entry. When I opened the door, the packages were sitting directly on the front step.
