I haven’t pursued her. I pushed her away when she was taken. And I was mainly kidding just now, but even if I wasn’t, she isn’t taken now, so maybe stop with the judgment? When have I judged you? I can’t try a different path when the one I’ve been on has gotten me nowhere?
Okay, okay. Good lord.
Woof. That’s the closest thing to a fight Avery and I have ever had. I hold my breath, waiting for his response.
There is a long pause. And then:
Is she okay?
There’s the Avery I know. Though he told me her fiancé sounded like a colossal ham sandwich—boring, boorish, undeserving of her—he is still worried about her feelings.
I hear Jack offering up his bedroom to Anna. After tucking her in, I hear him puttering around in the destruction that is our living rooms, although it’s clear he’s trying to keep the sound to a minimum.
I exit my bedroom and look around. I tried to clean a bit as unobtrusively as I could, but this place is still a mega-disaster. Jack looks around wearily and sighs.
“You so want to vacuum, don’t you?”
“More than I want oxygen, yes. But she passed out right away, and she’s a light sleeper. And she wanted to be alone, so I won’t be bunking with her. I’m going to be huffing this dust in all night.” He removes the sheet he threw over his sofa and eyes it dubiously.
“You can sleep with me. My bed, I mean. Notwithme,” I hear myself say, like the babbling monster I am.
He stops, goes very still. “First lunch, now bed?”
“You’re the worst. Offer retracted.”
“No, it’s not.” Beneath his weariness, there is amusement in his expression, and something else I can’t put my finger on. He crosses his arms and appraises me. “You sure that’s a good idea?”
The way he says it, in an almost-growl, hits me south of the equator. Hard. “Why? You— If you can’t behave yourself, I can always go crash at Margie’s and you take my bed. Just don’t go through my underwear drawer.”
“No, I can behave. Was worried about you keeping your hands to yourself, actually. Even with the therapy.”
I make a scoffing noise, halfway between a laugh and a snort.
“Your friend’s probably got Lara over, anyway.” He says it without any kind of inflection, albeit in a slightly rushed way. He saw Margie and La exiting the bathroom at the party. He knows they’re getting hot and heavy. “So… Okay, then. Thanks.”
I am very conscious of my breathing when I say, “Right. Okay, then. I’m going to go shower…”
We regard each other until I force myself to pad to my bathroom. Where I take a very cold shower.
What the hell have I just done?
You were trying to be nice.
Was I?
I close my eyes and let the water run over my face. This is a very bad idea.Bad, bad Penny.
When I come out of the bathroom, Jack is emerging from his. His hair is damp; he’s wearing shorts and a shirt. I find myself wondering if that’s his normal bedtime attire or if he’s being modest for me.
Even though it’s just sleep, I’m nervous as a virgin. I give him a half smile and call out, “Right this way, m’lord.”Control yourself, you moron.
He gives me a wry glance and follows me to my room. Once in, he looks around at all my little knickknacks and photos. It’s cozy and tranquil, everything designed to suck you in and hug you close and make you feel safe.
“Stop being nosy.”
“Only fair since you snooped in my room.” At my affronted look, he says, “Picture on my wall? Oh, and you missed a ton of coins under the bed.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
