I felt my shoulders lower, the tiny knot of jealousy in my chest loosening.
“That’s… actually really great,” I said softly.
Jay nodded. Then he moved to lean against the table I was standing at, his hip brushing mine ever so slightly.
“Hope.”
My breath caught.
“You need to rent my apartment.”
I was momentarily stunned by his bluntness. It took me a second to respond.
“Jay—”
“Don’t turn it down just because it’s an offer from me. Please, it’s safer than sleeping in your car.”
A blush crept up my cheeks. How did he know that was the only reason I was turning it down?
“I—I’ll figure something else out,” I whispered. “Tyler said I could sleep in his bed if I needed to.”
I didn’t get to clarify that Tyler would be sleeping on the floor, or that I’d have the bed to myself, before Jay’s expression darkened.
Jay’s navy eyes ignited with an unreadable intensity I had never seen before.
“He said what?” His jaw locked, and his whole body suddenly stiffened.
I swallowed. “He said I could?—”
“You're not sleeping in Tyler’s bed.” He let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Tyler has five other college roommates. Over my dead body are you staying in a frat house this weekend.”
“Tyler is not in a frat.” I rolled my eyes. “And you can’t tell me what to do, Jay,” I snapped, feeling irritation prickle my skin. “I’ll sleep wherever I want to.”
He reached out, as if to touch my hand, but then he pulled back and gripped the edge of the table instead. “You’re right,” he said quietly. “I can’t tell you what to do. But I can tell you the statistics of sexual assault for women ages eighteen to twenty-five years old.”
My breath hitched. “Jay?—”
“You have a 75% higher chance, Hope. You think that’s fine?” he pressed, his voice still soft but edged. “You think I’m just going to nod and say, ‘Sure, Hope, sleep anywhere,I don’t care’? Because I do care. Maybe more than I should.”
“Tyler meant he would sleep on the floor,” I said, hands flying up. “In the other room. Not with me. He just said I could have his bed.”
Jay inhaled sharply, some of the coiled stiffness leaving his shoulders. But only some.
“Still,” he said, his voice rough. “That’s not happening.”
I lifted my hands in exasperation and rolled my eyes. “You’re being ridiculous. It wasn’t going to happen anyway.” I glared at him, though my stomach was doing that weird fluttery thing again. “You’re not my dad, Jay. I don’t need you to look after me.”
Jay stepped even closer, eyes burning with something I wasn’t ready to name.
“Take my apartment,” he said firmly. “Let me help you.”
When I didn’t respond right away, I started lining up the mouth models, making sure they were perfectly straight. I was distracting myself so I wouldn’t have to look at him.
He let out a sigh of frustration.
“Amapolita,” he murmured, gentler now. “Please.”
That did it. And I was honestly disappointed in myself with how quickly I caved. When he talked to me like that and used that stupid nickname he had for me, I melted.
