Page 17

Chapter 17

Jessie

Ben’s car was nice. Like, really nice. I’m not sure why I was surprised. He’s a professional athlete. Of course he’d have a flashy car. New car smell mingled with the hazelnut coffee he’d made for us.

“Sorry, Sweet Cheeks. I’m not listening to a murder podcast on the way,” he said, pulling up a playlist on his phone.

“Your car, your rules,” I said, typing in my work address on the massive touch screen.

A Marshall Tucker song came on as Mikey put the car in gear and we left the garage under our building. I couldn’t afford the garage, so I did street parking, and thus had a solid sheet of bird shit all over my car at all times.

“You would like this song,” I teased.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mikey said, flicking his eyes to me.

“It’s a beer uncle song. You are 100% a beer uncle.”

“I feel like that’s not a compliment. I could leave your ass on the side of the road if you get too uppity, you know.”

“I mean, beer uncles are really fun. You’re like the loud, fun uncle who brings a case of Bud heavy to your nephew’s wedding reception while wearing a cut-off t-shirt.”

Ben’s shoulders shook for a moment, and I wondered if he was having some sort of medical event. Then his boisterous laugh erupted, filling the cab of the car with its warm sound.

“That’s a really vivid picture, Jess.”

“I didn’t come up with it, but it’s totally who you are,” I affirmed.

“I guess you’re right. And beer uncles like classic rock?”

“Oh, totally. And that’s you. Do you have nieces and nephews?”

Ben blew out a breath. “Yep. One of each. And maybe some illegitimate half nieces and nephews, too.”

I winced. There was some pain there. “I’m sorry, Ben.”

“It’s fine. My dad just sucks. I’m the miracle baby of the family. My sister and I were five years apart. I was the ‘let’s fix this marriage’ baby.”

“Ouch. Did it work?”

Ben scoffed as he merged onto the empty highway. “No. They’re still together, though. My mom refuses to admit defeat and my dad refuses to quit cheating.”

I didn’t quite know what to say to that. It was still before 5 a.m.

“Anyway,” he said. “You can put your seat back and sleep if you want. It says forty minutes.”

“I’ll keep you company,” I said, not wanting to just knock out on him after he revealed that his dad was a serial cheater. A little ping in my gut told me that had something to do with his own promiscuous ways, but it was way too early to be digging into that. “The coffee’s good. Cole never let us have flavored coffee, but I love it.”

I felt foolish for bringing up Cole. Even though Mikey and I were just friends, it felt weird to be talking about my very very recent ex.

Ben shook his head. “Does that guy like anything fun?”

I hoped Ben would laugh at my next Cole fact. “He said flavored coffee is the opiate of the masses.”

Ben snorted. “He’s a card, that one.”

“A card?” I repeated.

“Look, I don’t want to talk too much shit. If you end up getting back together, I don’t want you to hate me for all the mean stuff I said about him.”

“Why do you think I’m getting back together with him?” Hadn’t he seen me after our final fight?

A muscle ticked in Ben’s jaw and his fingers shifted on the steering wheel. “That’s just what I see relationship people do.”

“Relationship people?”

“Yeah. They break up, then realize maybe it wasn’t so bad and that person might be their only chance, and then they get back together and get married and buy a golden retriever and put up the white picket fence and send smarmy Christmas cards of them and their perfect little kids.”

Shew. I was taken aback by all the hostility packed into that one statement. Ben sucked down a sip of his coffee to fill the silence.

“We were never getting married. Cole listens to those men’s podcasts where everything is a conspiracy to take the white man down. He thinks marriage is a social construct designed to trick people into government surveillance.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ben was incredulous, bordering on outraged. “That man had no intention of putting a ring on it?”

“Is that a problem?”

“A woman like you deserves to be celebrated, Jessie. He should have been throwing a goddamn parade every day that he had you.” He took a long rip on his coffee, then muttered, “Social construct.”

My stomach fluttered. Did Mikey like me?

Oh, this was bad. Really bad. I was trying to leave because this was looking like a messy situation, and that was before this comment. The longer we continued this cohabitation experiment, the sloppier it would get.

And yet, I pressed on. “What do you mean, a woman like me?”

“I mean, you have ambition. You’re driven. You’re talented. You don’t give up because stuff’s hard. You’ve got guts. You don’t deserve to be minimized. You need to hear every fucking day that you’re amazing. And for a man to have the nerve to not meet your needs...” he trailed off.

“Why do you keep going on about the orgasms?” I asked.

“It’s not just the orgasms, Jessie. You need someone who won’t live in an expensive place and charge you rent when you make less money. Instead of supporting you, he just added obstacles. And because he knew you’re tough, he knew you wouldn’t back down.”

I was furious, mostly because he was right. But also, the audacity. “And what, you’re going to give me what I need? You’re back on the sneaky boyfriend train again.”

“No, I’m not. Am I right, though? Did I get it right?”

“Fuck off, Ben!” I snapped.

Ben stared through the windshield like the empty road itself made him mad, while I stared out my side window. He swore under his breath.

“I’m sorry, Jessie. I went too far. I don’t know how to do this right.”

His apology caught me off guard. I expected him to keep slinging hurtful truths my way.

“Yeah. It’s uh, it’s okay.” And surprisingly, I did really forgive him. For someone so cocky, he was especially willing to show me his shortcomings, and own up to them. He trusted me in a way I didn’t anticipate. Mikey did everything 110%, it seemed.

It was still dark outside and would be for the duration of our drive together. A soft folky love song played.

“Is this the playlist you made for my drive?”

A sad smile played on his lips. “Yeah.”

“This isn’t very beer uncle of you.”

“I have a variety of musical tastes, thank you very much. The goal was to ease you into your day. I go from gentle to party.”

“Who would’ve guessed you had a gentle side, Mikey? You slam people around for a living.”

“Excuse you, I also chase a frozen piece of rubber around and run on metal blades.”

“Oh, yeah. That reminds me,” I said, rifling around in my work bag. I’d started a hat for Mikey a couple days before. I could get some stitches in since I wasn’t driving. “I hope you like dark gray.”

Ben gasped. “Is that for me?”

“It will be when I’m done. I should be able to finish it between these two drives.”

“Seriously? Jessie, I love it. Thank you.”

“Maybe hold your applause till it’s done. It might still come out lumpy,” I laughed. “Fiber arts aren’t my strongest craft.”

Dancing In The Moonlight by King Harvest came on and Ben hummed into our comfortable silence, punctuated by the soft click of my metal needles.

“Oh, come on. I know you want to sing,” I said. “Let it out.”

“I’m trying to be less loud. I’ve been told I’m too loud.”

“Aw, did I break you, Mikey?” I asked, squeezing his shoulder. He hissed and squirmed away from me. “Fuck, sorry, that’s your bad shoulder, isn’t it?”

“It’s fine,” he said.

“Are you still hurting that bad? How are you playing?”

He just grumbled, turning his attention to the road like I didn’t ask the question. Touchy subject, okay. I tried to soften him up again. “Come on,” I said. “Sing. You have a nice voice.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really! Let’s hear you. I’m knitting for you. You can sing for me,” I pushed.

“I’m also driving your ass to work, Jessalyn,” he pointed out.

“Don’t hold that over me! I could have driven myself. Stop distracting. Sing.”

“Only if you sing with me.”

Joke was on him because my voice is god-awful. I got him to join me in the chorus as we belted out the song together. Mikey wore a huge smile. I got a little chill. I hadn’t gotten close to someone new in a long time. I’d spent so long being a dull piece of linen, and Mikey was this bright, sequined disco dress. Colorful threads were stitching us together, binding us to each other and making me brighter from being associated with him. This guy did truly everything big and it was the most fun I’d had in a long time. The last week had been hell with Cole, so actually enjoying myself was a stark contrast. When was the last time I had fun on my way to work? Never?

“You sound good, Jessalyn,” he said when we were done.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a terrible liar? I sound like a dying swan.”

“Well, I like singing with you.”

Despite him pushing too hard about Cole, I was sad to leave his car when he pulled onto the studio’s parking lot. The end of the playlist was upbeat K-Pop. It was impossible to hold back a smile.

“What time are you done today?” he asked.

“I never really know. I’ll just order a ride when the time comes.”

“No you won’t. Just give me as much heads up as you can. I’ll come get you.”

I growled my distaste.

“Jessalyn. I just have practice and PT today. Give me something to do. You owe me that for getting me up at 4:30.”

“I told you not to hold that against me!”

He cackled. “I knew that would piss you off. Just text me, okay?”

“Fine.”

“Have a good day, Sweet Cheeks.”

“Thanks for the ride, Jockey. Be careful going home.”