Page 9

Chapter 9

Mikey

Jess sat at a table in Kitty’s backyard, scrolling her phone and daintily sipping her champagne. What broke my heart about it wasn’t that she was alone, because I understand needing a moment to breathe during social occasions. What killed me was that her eyes were so sad.

“Where’s your man?”

“Huh?” Jessie looked up with those tired, sad eyes, clicking off her phone screen.

“Where’s Cole?”

“He had another thing tonight. I’m flying solo.”

I nodded, but my mind was alight. Hearing another woman’s voice in their apartment haunted me. Not only that, but I heard their fight after she left my apartment clear as a bell. He accused her, and me, of some pretty fucked up stuff. I hated him for doing that to her.

Fuck it. I held out my hand. “Dance?”

Jess stared at my outstretched hand. “What?”

I chuckled. “Will you dance with me, Jessalyn?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I thought you hated me.”

“I think that’s all you, Sweet Cheeks.”

Her cheeks pinked. “Don’t call me that.”

“Hate me all you want, but come dance with me,” I said.

“No. You hate me. You think I’m stuck up and a party pooper and morbid for listening to my murder podcasts and prissy because I like being in my boring relationship and not sleeping around.”

I leaned down closer to her. “Maybe he says that to you, honey, but that ain’t me.” Her eyes rounded. I’d hit a nerve. “I wanna be your best friend, remember?”

Jessie sputtered, trying to find some words. I held out my hand again. “Come on. One dance. I don’t bite.”

She smirked, putting her hand in mine. “You keep saying you won’t bite, which makes it seem like that’s exactly what you’ll do.”

I laughed, shaking my head as I walked her to the dance floor in the tent. “I don’t know where you got this idea that I’m out to get you, Jessalyn.”

I squared us up, holding her right hand and slipping my other hand to her waist. She put her left hand on my shoulder, but kept her distance, not leaning into me. It was a slower song, so we could talk. But she was quiet, her eyes searching my chest.

“I never said thank you. For last night.” Her gaze stayed fixed on my shirt, but she quickly flicked a glance up at me.

“You’re welcome. Sorry it caused unrest in your house.”

Her cheeks burned again. “That’s—it’s—he’ll get over it. We’re working it out.”

I clenched my teeth. I wasn’t going to have molars if Jessie stayed with Cole much longer. He was cheating on her. He didn’t deserve for her to ‘work it out’ with him. He deserved to dine on my fist for fucking dinner and spit up chiclets for dessert.

“Nice party,” she said. “They really are a great couple. Rare.”

“Why rare?” I asked.

She rubbed her lips together, looking at the white fabric draped over us. “Not every love is that all-consuming, do-anything-for- you kind of love, you know? It’s the stuff of love songs and movies and novels, but it’s rare to see it in real life.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “You don’t think it really exists? You’re the one who believes in long commitments.”

“It exists. It’s just rare. Not everyone gets that lucky.”

I originally thought Jess was a hopeless romantic, or assumed people who were good at relationships were. Instead of being a full beating heart, it now seemed like hers was made out of crumbly, dry-rotted elastic. What had Cole done to her? This beautiful woman in front of me didn’t believe in love the way it was meant to be felt. Or at least, how I hoped it would feel. “It might sound weird coming from me, but I believe in it. I think it’s out there for everybody. We’ve just gotta keep looking.”

“Well, we’ve established that you’re a live laugh love girlie, Mikey,” she said with a sad smile. “You gave a nice speech, by the way.”

I laughed self-consciously. “I don’t know if I give speeches so much as public verbal diarrhea.”

She cackled, a musical sound, her head dipping into the space between us, then throwing her head back. “You’re funny, you know that?”

“Funny. No filter. I’ve gotten ‘em all,” I said. She laughed again, then studied my eyes. What was she looking for? What was I looking for looking back at her? Whatever it was, it felt like I found it. Her hazel irises were fascinating in color alone, but it was how she looked at me. She was waiting for me to say more, to keep brightening her day. I wanted to give her that, because when I could make her laugh, it made everything better for me, too. Tension pulsed between us and I felt something that didn’t come often to me: attraction. And not the more familiar “you bounce on my cock” attraction, though that was there, too. It was more “I need to know everything about you and this is probably dangerous but I want to breathe the same air as you for the rest of my living moments.”

I felt that way for a woman who was in a relationship, just dancing with her once and looking into her eyes. And snuggling her in my bed. And talking late into the night with her.

Christ. I was a piece of work.

The song ended, but we still stood together, our arms up in the classic partner dance pose.

“I should get going. It’s late for me.”

I swallowed and nodded. “Right. Sure. I probably have to stay a while. Groomsman and all that.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.”

“Walk you to your car?”

“I think I’ll make it, Jockey. It’s just out front.” She walked back to get her purse at her table and I followed.

“This neighborhood, Jess,” I warned.

“Is what, really safe?”

I rolled my eyes. “Just make me feel better. This is for me, not you.”

“Oh, well, since it’s about you, you want me to wait until you can tailgate me home, too?” she scoffed. “I’m going to go say bye to Kitty.”

Kitty’s eyes lit up as Jessie and I approached. “Look at the two neighbors, making peace!” she teased. Jessie and Kitty hugged and promised to have lunch together Monday.

Jessie’s car was way up the street, almost a mile it felt like. “How old is your car?” I asked once I laid eyes on the ancient red Honda.

“She’s antique,” Jessie said, touching the hood defensively.

“Seriously, Jess, is that thing safe?”

“It’s gotten me through many-a commute and she’s still got plenty of life in her. I bought it when I moved out here. I never needed a car in New York. Used cars are expensive right now.”

The rage fire reignited in me. “And Cole couldn’t—”

“Jockey. Stop it.” Her tone was firm.

I chewed the inside of my cheek. “Text me when you get home?”

“Ben, are you my dad?”

“You had a drink or two!” I huffed.

“I’m also a grown-ass adult and I don’t need a fucking babysitter!” she barked. “I don’t even have your number.”

“Yes, you do.”

She squinted at me, waiting for an explanation. “I sent my playlist to myself and programmed it in.”

“Lord God,” she muttered. She shifted her voice to a childish whine. “Am I allowed to go now, Daddy?”

My eyes widened, and so did hers. Her breathing quickened. I drew a half step closer. What was my plan? Was I going to kiss her? Her eyes rounded, then softened. Oh, merciful God, it seemed like she wanted to kiss me, too. She was in a relationship. But he was cheating! And what’s a kiss? I was just thinking of seeing if her lips were soft and she tasted good, not ramming my dick in her. Though—

She pulled the handle to open her door. “Goodnight, Jockey.”

She drove off, leaving me standing stunned in the street.