“Please.” Jack blows a raspberry. “He doesn’t have a leg to stand on. Not when he’s been plowing my sister all this time. I think of it as poetic justice.”
I snort as I stand from the table, noticing he does the same thing. “Oh, is that what I am?”
“And then some,” he teases, pressing a kiss to my cheek before he pulls his mask back up. “I’ll see you at home?”
Home.
It’s strange; it’s been a long time since anything has felt like it fit that word for me, and yet Jack’s apartment has felt more like home than anywhere else I’ve been since I was a teenager. I’m almost afraid to ponder what that means.
I nod back at him, my throat feeling a little tight. “Yeah, I’ll see you at home.”
I can tell that he’s beaming at me under the mask, and I feel the force of it warm me from the inside out, even without properly being able to see it. It’s an effect only Jack seems to have.
He gives me a wave and quick goodbye before he leaves, and I find myself watching him go long after he’s disappeared through the door, still a little shell-shocked by the conversation we just had.
Abby, I like you. I don’t give a flying fuck who knows it.
The words all swirl around in my thoughts, leaving me a little light-headed and a lot out of sorts, and yet, when I move to go back to work, I feel my mouth turned up at the corners—that same smile I haven’t been able to shake fixed firmly into place.
Girlfriend,I think idly.
If I feel likethisfrom being whatever we are in secret, how much better might I feel living it out in the open?
And why is there some part of me that desperately wants to find out?
Twenty-Six
Jack
“And you’re sure I wasinvited?”
I roll my eyes even as I reach to give her hand a squeeze, letting it go just as quickly before Bea comes to the door. “Yes, for the last time, you were invited.”
“I just feel like it’s weird that I’m here.”
“It would be weirder if you weren’t, considering you let me eat you out an hour ago to calm your nerves.”
She smacks my arm. “Don’t talk about it! No one can know that—”
The door swings open to my aunt Bea in all her gray-haired glory—her short stature something that comes from my mom’s side of the family. Doesn’t stop her from looking up at me with a fierce expression.
“You’re late,” she grumbles.
I shrug. “Blame my date.”
“Roommate,” Abby corrects, and I notice her face heating when I peer down at her. “Just roommate.”
Bea eyes us both with slight suspicion in her eyes, and because I am, in fact, a little shit, I throw my arm around Abby’s shoulders, giving her a pout. “I can’t believe you’re not going to claim me in front of my aunt.”
“Do you really want me to hurt you right here on her porch?”
“You wouldn’t dare,” I say with a gasp. “You and I both know you lov—”
Ian’s head pops up around the doorframe. “What did I tell you about torturing my sister?”
“We’re best friends now, actually,” I tell him seriously. “Didn’t you know?”
Abby looks like she might want to stomp on my foot a little, but underneath that, there’s a slight glimmer in her eyes, like she also kind of wants to laugh, and that’s pretty much where I live with her. I’m content with that.
