I catch his hand when he tries to leave. He pauses, troubled brown eyes meeting mine as he chews on his lip ring. I move in closer, lowering my voice. “Is everything okay?”
He gives me a forced half-smile that’s meant to be comforting but feels anything but, and with a clipped nod, he’s gone.
“He’s been in a weird mood all day,” Caleb says, giving my shoulder a squeeze.
“Yeah,” Hunter agrees, looping an arm around my shoulders. “It’s not about you. You’re the fucking best for this.”
“Make sure he’s okay,” I say.
Hunter nods before they leave to catch up with Dylan. I make a mental note to be a better friend to Dylan. I’ve been so wrapped up in school, work, and Jesse, that I haven’t noticed that he’s clearly going through something. I try to piece together everything I know about him. I know he’s originally from the Eastern Shore. I’ve gathered from some of the things that he’s said in the past that he’s had some family drama, but he’s so tight-lipped. Getting Dylan to open up is like pulling teeth. Not that I’m much more forthcoming. It’s probably part of why we get along so well, if I’m being honest. I don’t like talking about my shit, and neither does he.
He knows my story, though, and that’s the difference. I know Dylan. I know all his favorite songs, and that he hates the smell of ketchup with the passion of a thousand burning suns, and that he secretly prefers acoustic to electric. But I don’t know his past, or what made him the way he is.
“Allison,” Jake shouts, snapping me out of my thoughts. I whip around to find him pointing at a couple who just sat down in my section.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, then paste a smile on my face before heading over to take their order.
Jesse stayed, bussing tables when he felt like it, but other than that, he sat in a booth, watching me all night. I felt his eyes on me like a second skin the entire time. It wasn’t until my shift was over that I remembered Lo wasn’t around to give me a ride home, and I didn’t make other arrangements.
Naturally, Jesse swooped in the moment he saw the realization set in. I stood in the hall next to the back room, sucker in mouth, backpack on my shoulder. He gave me a crooked smile, dangling his keys. “Need a ride?”
Surprisingly enough, he was quiet on the ride home. He kept checking his phone and tapping the steering wheel with his thumb in an agitated gesture. I wanted to ask him about it, but everything is so…undefined.
Once we pulled into the driveaway, the house was noticeably dark. Jesse cut the engine and neither one of us made a move to get out, the fact that we were alone for a week hanging between us. Jesse reached over, popping the sucker out of my mouth without a word, before sticking it between his own lips.
“I’m going to shower,” I said, feeling for the door handle, before I thanked him for the ride. I bolted up the stairs, needing to both put some distance between us and take a much-needed shower.
Which brings me to now, the scalding water beating down on me, and it feels so good that I don’t think I’ll ever leave. All day, I walked around with Jesse’s scent on my skin, serving as a constant reminder of what we did last night. I stay in the shower long after all evidence of our indiscretion has washed away, until the water runs cold. I step out and wrap my towel around myself, my skin flushed and overheated, my body suddenly feeling heavy and exhausted. When I open the door to my room, I’m almost surprised Jesse isn’t here waiting for me.
I reach for another baggy T-shirt to sleep in, but then I second-guess my decision. What if Jesse comes in later? No. Screw that train of thought. If he can’t handle me in my borderline homeless attire, he doesn’t deserve what’s underneath. I pull the shirt on over my head, throwing on a pair of boy shorts underneath, then head back to the bathroom to finish getting ready for bed. As I’m brushing my teeth, I pause at the sound of Jesse’s muffled voice coming from his room. I turn the faucet off and lean in toward his door, quiet as a mouse.
“I told you last time. I’m
out.” His voice is sharp and angry, brooking no argument, but the person on the other end of the phone obviously doesn’t take the hint. “I don’t give a shit about that,” he snaps. There’s another pause before he speaks again. “Lose my number.” It’s quiet for long seconds again, so I assume he ended the call.
What the hell was that about?
The doorknob turning has me jumping away from the door, heart pounding, toothbrush still in my mouth. Jesse stops short when he sees me, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.
“What?” I ask around a mouthful of toothpaste.
“Nothing.” He unbuttons and unzips his jeans, turning for the toilet. A second later, I hear him emptying his bladder as I’m rinsing my mouth with water.
“Ever heard of boundaries?” I ask, scrunching my nose, reaching for a towel to dry my face.
“I know what your pussy tastes like—the answer is fucking delicious, by the way. I think boundaries are a thing of the past with us.”
I shake my head, turning toward him with a witty retort on the tip of my tongue, but his open door allows me a glimpse into his room and the words die on my lips. A duffle bag sits in the middle of his floor, but there’s not much else. Still nowhere to sleep. The sight suddenly has me feeling guilty for stealing his bed. Sure, he has the couch, but that can’t be comfortable, especially for more than a night or two. I’m the interloper. I should be the one sleeping in the living room.
“I can take the couch tonight,” I say, taking him by surprise. Jesse chuckles, looking over his shoulder at the empty space before shutting the door.
“You getting soft on me, Allie Girl? Trust me. I’ve had worse living arrangements.”
I cock my head to the side, regarding him. Another little glimpse into his life.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he snaps, but the words sound contrived. Defensive, but holding little heat.
I shrug, playing it off. “Suit yourself.”