9
It’s still early when I knock on Jocelyn’s door.
I probably should have called or texted first.
I didn’t exactly think this all the way through. I just knew that I couldn’t sleep and couldn’t stop thinking about her. I’m jonesin’ like a fucking fiend. I just want to get a little more time with her this weekend before J-Squared get back from the ex’s—fucking dick—because as soon as they’re home, it’s back to hands off.
She said yesterday that she planned to study all day before the kids got home. I hope she’s up for a study break, because shit, those lips. I’m gonna need at least a few more kisses to sustain me through the week.
The door opens slowly, and I’m surprised to see June’s face peek around at me. I’m so taken aback to see her that I don’t speak right away, and her eyes narrow.
“Dad dropped us off early,” she says, answering my unspoken question, then swings the door open and gestures for me to come inside. “Mom is upstairs with Jude.”
“Thanks, Junie B. Jones,” I say as I trail her through the house. She looks up at me like I’m fucking nuts, and I bite my lip to keep from smiling. “Came by to see if you guys’ll need me to watch you at all this week.” It’s a weak excuse, but I think she buys it. She shrugs, then heads to the kitchen.
I lean on the wall and watch as she climbs up onto the counter and pulls down four plastic, mismatched bowls. She sets them out onto the kitchen peninsula, then fills them with cereal from a box she grabs from the cabinet. Something colorful and no doubt sweet. Looks like knock-off Froot Loops. She gets a gallon of milk from the fridge and pours milk into two of the bowls, then silently slides one of the bowls in front of me, making a scraping sound as it slides, then a sloshing sound when it stops. She puts the milk back in the fridge, hands me a spoon, then climbs onto a stool and pulls the other milk-filled bowl to her. Without saying anything, she starts eating the cereal.
So, I do what anyone else would do.
I sit on the stool next to her and eat the cereal.
“So why you back early?” I ask her between mouthfuls.
She shrugs. “He always brings us back early.” Interesting. “It’s okay,” she adds stoically. “I don’t like being there anyways.”
I’m silent for a minute—this kid is always making me question my words—before saying, “Well, I’m glad I get to see you, Dune Buggy.”
She doesn’t look at me, but I see her smirk into her bowl before she shoves another spoonful of cereal into her mouth. I’ll take it.
I’m midchew when Jocelyn and Jude round into the kitchen. They both stop short when they see me, then Jude launches himself at my legs.
“Jesse!” he shouts. “Are you here to play with me?”
I go to ruffle his hair, but it’s been buzzed short and now feels like soft Velcro. I flick my eyes from him to Jocelyn. She still looks stunned, so I direct my question to Jude.
“What’s with the new ‘do, Meatball?”
He climbs onto my lap, then reaches over the counter to grab a bowl of cereal while he answers.
“I got a sucker in it.” He looks at his mom. “Can I have milk?”
Jocelyn moves to the fridge. “He fell asleep with a sucker in his mouth and apparently woke up with it wrapped up and knotted into his hair,” she tells me. I take note of the worry lines between her eyes as she pours the last of the milk into Jude’s bowl and tosses the gallon into the garbage. “Patrick cut it out,” she winces, then finally looks at me with a what the actual fuck was going through my head when I married that idiot expression on her face.
Well, that’s how I read it anyway.
She picks up the last bowl of cereal and starts eating it, piece by piece, dry. She doesn’t even bother with a spoon. I track her delicate fingers as they bring a colorful O to her lips and place it in her mouth, and then I look away, because I’m dangerously close to getting an erection.
“He had a giant chunk cut out of his hair on the side of his head, so I had to even it out with some clippers.” She surveys Jude’s head and forces a smile. “I like it. Perfect for summer weather.”
“Now my head won’t get hot!” he announces to everyone, and Joss and I share a smile.
We finish eating our cereal, me and June on the stools, Jude on my lap, and Jocelyn leaning on the counter across from us. Jude rambles about all the fun stuff he did at his dad’s house—rode his scooter, jumped on a trampoline, went swimming, played with ‘mote ‘introl cars—but when I glance at June, she gives me a small shake of her head.
Jude’s imagination knows no bounds, but it rubs me the wrong way that he had to imagine such simple things. Shouldn’t riding his scooter be a reality? Fuckin’ ex.
“You guys wanna go to campus today?” I blurt out. “We can get pizza and play frisbee on the quad.”
“I’ll get dressed!” Jude yells, then scrambles off my lap and darts up the stairs. I realize my mistake a split second later when silence falls in the kitchen. When I glance at Jocelyn, her face is tight.
“Go get dressed, June,” she says softly, and June slides off the stool and heads upstairs without a word.
“I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “I should have asked you first.”
“Why are you even here, Jesse?” she asks, her voice strained. Is she mad? “I said the kids can’t know. You can’t just show up here unannounced and spring plans on us without talking to me first. We can’t give the kids ideas. You know how this looks?”
Yeah, she’s mad.
“I know. I’m sorry,” I tell her honestly. “I just got pissed that Jude had to lie about the fun shit he did at the ex’s this weekend, and I spoke before thinking.”
“How do you know he lied?”
She cocks her head to the side. She knows the kid made all that shit up; I can tell from the look on her face.
I shrug. “June told me.”
She scrubs a hand down her face and sighs.
“I can take them if you want,” I offer. “You can get some studying in like you’d planned.”
“No,” she says quickly, and I’m immediately offended. Hurt, though I know I shouldn’t be. She doesn’t trust me to take them out of the house.
“You’re right,” she continues, “they could use something more than television this weekend.” She sighs. “But campus? What if we run into someone?”
“We won’t,” I promise. Those lines between her eyebrows are deep, and I just want to reassure them away. I hate that she’s so worried about anyone finding out about whatever this is, but I get it. Kind of. I don’t want to cause her more stress.
“It’s Sunday, so all of my friends will be prepping for the week,” I say earnestly. Riggs and Bailey are probably still recovering from the away game travels, Ivy will probably be studying or interning or whatever, and Kelley uses Sundays to prep his lessons for student teaching. “We won’t run into anyone important.”
She sighs again. “Just for a couple hours,” she relents, then hits me with a serious look. “And no touching. No flirting. No anything that could even hint at—” She gestures between us, and I grin at the tint of pink that stains her cheeks.
“No touching today,” I whisper, locking her eyes with mine. “But soon, I’m going to touch you, Classic, and I’m not going to stop until you’re quivering and spent.”
Her breath hitches. I smirk. I like unnerved Jocelyn.
“I’ll check on your minis.”