“I’m going to go shower now,” he said casually, standing up from the couch and handing me the remote.
When the door clicked shut behind him, I turned the TV back on, but I wasn’t focused on what was on the screen.
My mind wandered to everything Jay had said instead.
“It’s because it brings it to the surface, where we have to face it.”
And it was in that moment that I considered that maybe, just maybe, I could try talking to someone.
That I might be strong enough to face my fears again.
CHAPTER 42
Ifelt—strangely wired.
While he was showering, it felt almost impossible to busy myself for some reason. I couldn’t pick a show, so I tried a book instead, but my mind wouldn’t settle. I unpacked a few things, then ended up shoving them right back into my suitcase. I felt jittery, like I’d had a few cups of caffeine.
Eventually, I ended up back on the sofa, the blanket wrapped around me, flipping aimlessly through channels.
Then I heard the bathroom door unlock, and my eyes immediately flicked toward it.
Jay stepped out, and thankfully, he was fully dressed in a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. His wet hair was slicked back from his face, curling slightly at the edges. He still held a towel, dabbing at his neck and ears.
“Gave up on the TV, I see,” he said, coming over to sit on the other end of the sofa.
“Yeah. Sorry,” I admitted.
A long pause stretched between us, and I resisted the urge to bite my nails.
“Well, it’s only six.” He checked the time on his phone. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes,” I answered immediately.
“Want to order a pizza?” he suggested.
I nodded. “I’d like that.”
He smiled, the awkwardness easing slightly as he stood and went to the phone.
Maybe I wasn’t jittery after all. Perhaps I was just hungry.
He looked entirely too nonchalant, leaning against the table, phone pressed to his ear.
“Are you going to be mad if I get pineapple on the pizza?” he asked.
“Are you going to be mad when I tell you I’m allergic to pineapple?” I said.
He paused. “You’re not allergic to pineapple.”
“Aren’t I?” I raised a brow.
His eyes narrowed, but a smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “Yes, hello,” he said into the phone. “I’d like to order a large pizza, please.”
As he listened, he mouthed, “You’re a liar,” at me.
I bit my lip to keep from smiling.
“Yes,” he continued, “pepperoni, olives, and pineapple.”
