Chapter Twelve
She thought about sending him an apology note somehow.
But after the weird stuff she’d let herself write in his bedroom, it felt a little like pressing her luck.
It had gone well then. It had felt good then.
But what if she tried again, and it went the bad way?
Maybe she attempted a scribbled sorry I assumed you wanted to have sex with me , and it made the wheels on his truck magically turn into bananas.
After all, if the things she’d told herself were nonsense were actually real, if everything she’d pushed down and suppressed had kind of happened in some way, then what would happen if she let it all rise up again?
All her cloudy memories of it didn’t seem like a series of easily controllable things.
She wasn’t even sure if control of something like that was possible.
Or even reasonable to consider in that way.
Though she had to admit, it was starting to feel a little bit more reasonable than it had.
Partly because of what he’d said, and how oddly right it had felt.
But it was also just this strange sense she kept having of something at the periphery of her senses.
A tingling in her limbs that hadn’t been there before.
A new, weird feeling of security, and safety, as if she had done an honest-to-god spell that protected her.
And it didn’t seem to just extend to her.
It extended to Popcorn, too, in a way she hadn’t really grasped before.
But she did now, when she realized he wasn’t doing a bunch of things he usually did.
He didn’t growl at the door after she shut it behind her.
There was no pacing until she shut the drapes.
And most shocking of all: he didn’t stay sitting on the back of the chair, by the window, when she climbed into bed.
He jumped up with her instead.
Like there was nothing out there he needed to watch now.
Even though she hadn’t really believed there was anything before.
It had all just been in her head. Imaginary, she told herself, as Popcorn snuggled up against her in a tight little ball.
Already half asleep, in the most contented way she’d ever seen.
She put a hand on him to stroke his little ruffles, and he didn’t even stir.
And the same thing happened to her.
She went out like a light. Like everything was so calm and okay now that nothing could get in the way of sleep—not even that embarrassment with Jack. Though of course it returned with a vengeance when she came down into the store the next day and found him waiting outside.
And not even in an I just happened to be passing kind of way.
It was definitely a purposeful, here I am to see you and give you a stern talking-to about leaping over people’s personal boundaries sort of thing.
He even looked kind of agitated. And even more so than he had the night before when he finally came out of the bathroom.
He had a cigarette clamped between his teeth, but as she watched he patted himself until he found his pack and got out another.
It took until he got it to his lips for him to realize.
Then he very visibly cursed at himself, and flicked out the one he’d been smoking, and tossed both in the nearest trash can, and tried to take some breaths and tidy himself up instead.
He ran a hand through his hair, and straightened the collar of his jacket— suede on the outside, wool-lined on the inside, and familiar in a way she didn’t grasp at first.
Then she remembered the closet.
She’d rubbed her face against that soft suede, that thick wool. In fact she’d almost told him to wear it on their date that was not a date. And now he had it on, over what looked like another colorful shirt. Another Hawaiian shirt. Like maybe… like maybe he had thought of her while dressing.
Stop it , she told herself.
Didn’t you make things bad enough yesterday?
But then he suddenly looked up like he’d heard her thoughts. And their eyes locked through the glass, so tightly she didn’t know how to pull away. She didn’t want to pull away. She went to the door and unlocked it while still holding that deep blue gaze. Or while he held hers, maybe.
Because he didn’t seem angered by it.
Or uncomfortable.
In fact he almost sounded as breathless and near dissolved as she felt when he greeted her.
“Hey,” he said, and honestly it was all she could manage to not do inappropriate things to him all over again.
In fact it was only Popcorn that saved her.
Popcorn, who dashed out to most likely bite his ankles off, the way he always did with strange men.
Heck, he’d almost done it to Cassie when Nancy had finally let them meet.
He was not a friendly dog.
Jack even reacted like he definitely wasn’t going to be.
He jerked back as if Popcorn was ten times the size he actually was, and held out both hands to keep him at bay.
“Whoa, easy, easy there, little fella, I’m not gonna hurt anybody,” he said.
But Popcorn didn’t listen. Popcorn charged right by the invisible barrier Jack had set up, and practically headbutted his leg.
Then when that didn’t get the message across, he tried scrabbling at Jack’s pants and boots.
And whining. And wiggling his little butt.
Obvious in intention, but so shocking she didn’t know how to react any more than Jack did.
“Wait, does this mean he likes me? Does this mean he wants to be buds?” he asked, but she wasn’t sure what to say.
No seemed like a lie. Yes seemed dangerous.
So instead she just watched, until Popcorn’s scampering and desperation grew so insurmountable that even Jack couldn’t keep believing in the kind of pet rejection he was obviously used to.
He knelt down, in careful, slow increments, and tried to pet the top of Popcorn’s head.
Gently, so gently she wasn’t even sure if he really made contact.
He just sort of brushed the air above, with all the tentativeness of a man who knows his own size, and his own strength, and feared what both could do to something so small, so fragile.
But Popcorn wasn’t having any of that.
He pushed his little face directly into Jack’s palm until Jack gave in.
He scooped her little dog up, one-handed, and tried to sort of fuss with him.
Like he’d seen it done in a movie or show, she imagined, and was giving it his best guess.
Adorable, she thought, and kind of heartbreaking.
But not nearly as much as when Popcorn licked his face.
You’d have honestly thought Jack had been given the world.
He looked at her goofy little dog; he was half shocked and half overjoyed.
“I have no clue what I’m doing to make this happen,” he said. “Dogs usually hate me. All pets hate me. And especially when they’re protective of their mom.”
“Well, maybe he knows there’s nothing to protect me from.”
“Apart from me doing all the stuff I did last night.”
Wait, what? she thought.
But before she could ask what on earth he was talking about, he sighed. He shot her a sheepish look. “Listen, kid, I know that I messed up, okay? I get that I was very weird, and said some odd things, and then freaked out. Honestly, I think it was just that I had a little too much to drink.”
She couldn’t accept that, however.
And not just because it absolved her entirely.
“But you only drank milk all night, Jack.”
“Right. Right. Yeah, that’s correct. But see, uh… I kind of react badly to dairy.”
“So, wait. You mean your stomach was upset. That’s what you’re saying.”
“ Exactly . Which also explains why I ran to the bathroom. Case closed.”
He drew a line through the air with both hands.
And it was ridiculous, it was. But she couldn’t keep the relief out of her voice when she answered him.
“Case closed? It wasn’t a murder mystery.
I didn’t think you’d killed anyone. It was just, you know, one of those things.
That I’m very glad I didn’t cause by doing anything you didn’t want me to do. ”
“Oh jeez, no. No. Not at all.”
“Because if I did, you could say.”
“I don’t want to say; there isn’t anything remotely like that in my head,” he said, and so convincingly that she couldn’t help letting out a little phew .
Much to his consternation. “Wait. Has that been in your head? It hasn’t, has it?
You’ve been bothered by it, haven’t you?
Okay, lemme just be clear—everything you did and said was all extremely helpful to me.
I was very happy that you gave me that advice, and anytime you wanna…
anytime you would like to… advise me again, you can. ”
Was that a euphemism? she thought.
But as they’d just gotten past this hump, she really didn’t want to add another into the mix. They were still buds. He was cuddling her dog. Proceed with caution , she told herself.
“So you still want more lessons, then?” she asked, then stamped down her heart when his face lit up.
“Absolutely I do. In fact, I’d be ready for them right now, if you were willing. Especially when it comes to, you know, things that mean kissing. Codes that say I want to… do whatever you… I mean people… might want to do. And how to maybe brace for them. If that makes sense.”
Not really , she thought.
“Of course it does,” she said. And thankfully, she did have a way of going about it that might provide a little more distance.
Books , she told herself. Use books, and lessons, and the fantasy of what these things should be like.
Because, sure, they said a lot of horny things.
They drew attention to horny things she liked.
But they’d stepped through an actually horny door now.