“Humming. I could’ve driven you mental by humming the past few months?”
He nods.
“Well, you’ve revealed your kryptonite now. Foolish.” I waggle my eyebrows.“Dangerous.”
“Maybe I’m learning to trust you.”
I hum out the theme to Disney’sBeauty and the Beastand wave my hands like I’m conducting an orchestra. His mouth flattens into an unappreciative line.
“We’re likeHighlander,” I say with a grin. “There can only be one happy person in this apartment at a time.”
“Okay… WatchingGoodfellas. ReferencingHighlander. I’ve heard you throw around a few other references… You were a tomboy, weren’t you?”
“I was a girl who watched what my dad watched. And your whole gender-norms thing is gross.”
“Yeah, yeah. But your dad liked those movies so you like those movies?”
“Hewatchedthose movies, I said. Most of them he couldn’t be bothered with.Highlanderpissed him off. I adored it.Bloodsport? I practiced Van Damme splits all over the house. He couldn’t stand it.” At Jack’s questioning look, I reluctantly add, “He’d never rent a movie more than once. He craved novelty. Guess it wasn’t only movies, seeing as how he left his wife for someone else.”
“Oh.” There is softness in Jack’s eyes. Compassion. For me.
I force a smile. “You’d think he would’ve loved the ones withhappy endings, but nope, thrill was gone after that first watch.”
“Stop telling Jack your problems,” Anna says from the doorway of Jack’s bedroom. She’s been in and out of the apartment every day since her breakup. Right now she’s in one of his shirts and a pair of shorts. I freeze, mortified that I inadvertently shared something so personal in front of someone who is pretty much a stranger to me. I don’t want to examine why I didn’t feel the same about sharing with Jack.
Anna heads to the kitchen and opens the fridge, where she glugs white wine into a regular water glass before slamming the refrigerator closed. “He feeds on that shit. Don’t be surprised if he tries to rescue you, too.”
Jack stands and runs a hand through his hair. “Anna, please go to bed.”
I frown at Anna, questioning. She shakes her head at me pityingly. “That’s his thing. Haven’t picked up on that yet? White knight!” I notice for the first time that she’s slurring a little. “Good old Jack. Pride of the Craig family. Perfect Jack! Lawyer. And he’s always right… He was right about Seth each and every one of the fifty fucking times he played me. Loved being right about that, huh? But you’re wrong about Avery, Jack. You don’t know how wrong—”
“Anna—”
“Jack even saved our mom’s life once, from choking. He wassixteen! Who knows the fucking Heimlich at sixteen? Isn’t that amazing?”
“Okay, Anna.”
“Full ride to college, but he worked two jobs anyway to help pay the mortgage. He was working to pay our bills long before that, though, back when he was a teenager and Dad got sick.” She gestures with her glass, wine sloshing over the rim onto the floor. “Family fixer! When I broke my leg and couldn’t dance anymore, you remember what Mom would tell me? No, you don’t, because you weren’t there. It was, ‘Be more like your brother.’ You’re not even human. You don’t have feelings like normal people. No time for a girlfriend when you’re a fucking cyborg, racing around saving the day to keep yourself fromfeelinganything except satisfied at how completely perfect you are.”
An angry look crosses Jack’s face for a nanosecond. He ushers Anna back into his room, trying to claim her wine cup. I wipe up the spilled wine and try not to listen to their raised voices. Opening his under-sink cabinet to toss the soiled paper towels, I view the fire extinguisher with new eyes. The giant poison control card on the fridge, too. He isn’t a hyper-guarded, overprepared weirdo—he just had to grow up faster than he should’ve, had to take care of the people around him. He still does—stillis. Jack emerges a few minutes later. He looks harried.
I feel a pang of sympathy for him. Difficult family members are kind of my thing.
“What was that about Avery?”
“She’s just… She’s wasted right now. Argued with her ex. Ignore her.”
“Is she okay?” I ask.
He nods and rubs at the back of his neck. He looks exhausted. “She’s not doing well with the breakup. And when she’s like this, she’s a little like a leaf in a rainstorm, sticking to whatever solid object crosses her path. Until the go-round.”
He picks up a piece of wood, and I wonder if Anna’s nasty remarks stung. There are worse things than being called a hero, but he looks as upset as I’ve ever seen him. And tired. He’s been on the sofa since the other night when I molested him.
I move to him and still his hand. The touch is like a zap, loading the air around us with crackling energy Nikola Tesla would’ve been impressed by. I don’t know if I imagine his thumb rubbing my palm, but my breath seizes just the same. I force myself to speak. “Maybe we avoid kicking up more dust tonight. How about I order Chinese and we watchBloodsport?”
His skin and mine are touching. I can barely think of anything else. I wonder if he’s thinking of that, too—thinking about the fact that he had his Jake Gyllenhaal in my hand as a result of a different dusty night.
He gives me a wry and resigned smirk before agreeing to my offer.
