Nothing Feels Better (Better Love 3)

“—are the biggest donator,” Roxanne says, pulling me from my thoughts. “I’ve never known a person who knits as much and as fast as you.”

“Wait,” I interrupt, then look at Jesse, “you can knit?”

“He sure can,” Roxanne brags. “He’s brilliant at it. One of the best who donates through me.”

Jesse takes pleasure in my confusion. “That surprising?” he teases.

“Oh, uh,” I fumble, “well...” I raise my eyebrows and give an apologetic shrug. “Yeah, it kind of is.”

“You think I’d be better suited to, what, play sports? I’m a little short for basketball, but I’m prime height for QB.” The humor in his voice is apparent in every dramatic pause, every drawn-out syllable. I shrug again, and he chuckles. “Believe it or not, Joss, organized team sports are not my jam.”

I don’t believe it. I mean, look at him—he’s built like an athlete. He looks like he could have walked right off a court or a field or out of some ESPN player interview broadcast. Muscled and toned and honed to perfection. Plus, that height? The charm? The cocky swagger?

My facial expression must give away my thoughts because he puffs out his chest and sports a positively wicked grin.

“I’m good at many, many things,” he says slowly, suggestively, “but sports aren’t one of them.”

I want to ask him what else he might be good at, but I hold my tongue. I don’t have much experience with flirting. Not since I was a naïve sixteen-year-old, and even then, I was bad at it. But if Jesse wasn’t an attractive, twenty-three-year-old college student, and I wasn’t, well, me, I’d possibly, maybe, think he might be flirting with me. But probably not.

I clear my throat, suddenly parched, and blink a few times to wet my dry eyes. I scramble for something to say, but all I can muster is an awkward, breathy laugh.

“I’m so happy that you two know each other,” Roxanne breaks in and looks at me. “Once I make parole, you’ll have to come over and join Jesse and me for a game of Euchre.”

“Parole?” Jesse chuckles. “This isn’t prison, Rox.”

Before Roxanne can respond, I make my way to the door. “I have to finish up my rounds, Roxanne,” I tell her with my body already half out the door. “I’ll stop back in later but call if you need anything.” I smile at Roxanne, then turn to Jesse. “It was nice to see you again.”

“It was my pleasure,” he says, and just as I turn to walk out the door, he adds, “See you soon, Classic.”