Chapter 7 #3
Maybe being friends with Jason was easier than I’d thought it would be.
“Have you eaten yet?” Jason asked instead of cutting me loose.
“No,” I grunted, still feeling soft around the edges.
“My treat—” Jason clapped a hand on my back. High enough that he could drag his palm up to my nape and squeeze. I melted. “You like Italian? Silly question. Everyone likes Italian.”
“Y-yeah,” I replied unnecessarily.
Jason grinned.
Dinner was delicious. Jason forced me to taste a whole variety of foods when he found out I hadn’t been to Rudy’s before. He told me what to try and when. Offered me a napkin when I needed it. Flagged the waiter down when my drink was empty, always smiling, always polite.
My guard stayed down.
As I ate, he and Marybeth giggled together like a gaggle of teenage girls. They swapped stories back and forth. He included me at first, but when it was clear that I preferred to stay silent, he let me be.
Marybeth’s stories were mostly about the boys in her class at school and how dumb they were. What did kids that little have to complain about? A lot, apparently. Mavis had been simpler, even if she was far grumpier than Marybeth was.
Jason’s stories were about the townies.
With each one Jason shared, I understood him better.
Jason had his finger in every pie, so to speak.
Knowing people and all their intimate details made him better equipped to care for them.
A fact that was revealed when every tale he told ended in him managing to help someone or enlist help for them, in some way.
For example, the uncle he’d mentioned to the girl at the theater.
Jason had heard a rumor that someone had seen him disappearing behind the grocery store after hours.
He’d found it suspicious and had been immediately concerned.
For a week, he’d stationed himself in a camping chair out back, waiting for the intruder to arrive.
Nothing happened.
He gave up.
Until one night, he was working late, and he heard something in the alley.
Immediately, he remembered the rumor, and rather than call the cops, he went out there full of concern.
Which ended up being a good thing because he’d found the girl’s uncle collapsed at the bottom of the dumpster after he’d popped his knee out of place while climbing in.
Apparently, he’d been looking for expired food. Jason told me that he didn’t know why the man had needed that food, and he hadn’t asked. It wasn’t his place to judge or know such intimate knowledge. Which was…surprisingly sweet, and not at all what I’d expected from such a well-known gossip.
The story ended when Jason called the town doctor, Ben Montgomery, for help, and sent the man home with a few gift cards and a promise. From now on, if he had anything expired worth handing out, he’d keep it in a fridge in the stock room, and he could stop by and get it—no dumpsters required.
Jason informed me that he’d told everyone—aside from me, for some ungodly reason—that the man had hurt his knee while ice fishing.
And thus—the lie was born.
Jason didn’t tell the tale like he was bragging.
He simply relayed the facts.
It did make me wonder, though, if maybe he’d told me about the food in the stockroom on purpose. This was the second time that he’d rather doggedly tried to feed me after all. I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but I could read between the lines clearly enough.
It was a roundabout way of taking care of me, sure, but I appreciated it.
He was trying not to step on my pride.
Especially after I’d blown up at him last time.
And had yet to accept his offers.
Jason didn’t realize that I didn’t have that in me right now.
I still felt fuzzy around the edges. Less stressed than usual. Less panicky. With my belly full. Less lonely. Less scared. And oddly…safe with him nearby, watching over me. I didn’t have to worry about a single thing.
The last thing I wanted to do was go back to my house and see the mess of projects that awaited me. At the reminder of my house and the reason I’d been out looking for Jason in the first place, I sobered.
Jason paused mid-bite, eyebrows raised in question.
Those damn eyebrows could host a whole conversation on their own.
“Jason!” an eager voice said, unknowingly saving me. “I thought that was you.”
The newcomer was an older woman wearing one of the same “Montgomery Smut Club” shirts I’d spotted in town a few days previously. It was a weird shirt, but I wasn’t judging. I’d peeked at the manga George had once—without permission—and realized how common that sorta thing truly was.
It was nice in a way, that people could flaunt what they liked.
I’d never been very good at that.
Didn’t have experience in that regard.
Just thinking about sex made me shy.
Jason chatted with the woman for a solid ten minutes. Long enough that I’d finished eating, and Marybeth had grown tired. She blinked at me, a little smile on her lips. Then she brought her hand up and made a flapping motion with it like she was trying to illustrate what a “yapper” her uncle was.
I snorted.
Jason noticed immediately.
He cocked his head at me, an arm going behind my chair, hand gripping my shoulder. God, his hand was warm. Almost blisteringly so. “Have you met Joe?” he asked the woman. “He bought the orchard at the edge of town.”
“Oh, really?” The woman perked up, eyes brightening. “Are you doing a U-Pick? We’ve missed those.”
I stiffened, suddenly unsure of how to reply. “I…” My throat closed up. I didn’t want to mess this up. My brain was too soft for this right now—what did I do? What did I—
“He’s looking into it!” Jason said with a grin. “Though, I will say…if you want a taste, I recommend popping by the grocery store and grabbing some of his apples. They’re delightful. I ate two myself the other day.” Jason groaned dramatically to illustrate how good my apples apparently were.
I ducked my head, cheeks flushed.
I hadn’t known he’d eaten my apples.
Had it been the two I’d knocked over?
Probably.
Marybeth helped by proudly offering the older woman the tiny apple she’d shoved in her pocket earlier. To which the lady cooed in delight.
“You can look, but it’s mine,” she said deliberately. “If you want your own, you need to buy it from Joe.”
“Well, isn’t that precious! What a good little salesperson you’ve got here,” she winked at me.
“And!” Jason added on, giving my shoulder a little shake. “I heard a rumor he’s planning to be at the Pie Festival selling his wares!”
How the hell had he known that?
I nodded because Jason was correct, and the woman grinned at me. “It’s pie-baking season,” she told us both. “I’ll stop by. Bring the club—”
“Oh yes. He’d love that!”
“We’ll buy you right out!” With that, she said her goodbyes and departed.
Jason shoveled the last of his food into his mouth quickly.
By that point, it was cold. He didn’t complain, nor did he seem to mind.
Content to have used his free time to help me.
Again. His cheeks puffed up like a chipmunk as he signaled the waiter for the check.
He paid.
Just like he’d promised he would.
I was floating, and I didn’t know what to do with myself. Jason’s hand was on my nape as he led us out the door and into the chilly dark night. Every time he looked at me, it felt like I was on fire.
My belly was full of food he’d bought me.
And that warm, warm hand was holding me steady.
At that moment, I was pretty sure there wasn’t a thing in the world that could ruin this for me.
Out on the street, the Christmas lights that ran over awnings and across trees lit the world up a hearty gold. I’d never been down here at night. Hadn’t known it could be like this. That Belleville could be this welcoming.
There was something about the play of light on Jason’s face that mesmerized me.
Or maybe it was how…full of life he seemed to be, even now. A whirlwind kinda person. A tornado. He existed, and everyone else was pulled into him, me included.
The air was crisp and I sucked in a greedy breath full, almost drugged as his hand tightened on my nape and he herded me to the parking lot where we’d parked. We’d taken separate cars here. Our trucks, faded blue and glossy green, parked right next to one another.
Marybeth was babbling, and Jason was chatting along, but I barely heard a single word, lost as I was.
We’d yet to have one of the big snowstorms I’d heard warnings about, but I could sense it on the horizon.
Practically taste it in the air as we paused in front of Jason’s truck and he released my neck so he could unlock it.
I missed his hand the moment it was gone.
Like a brand on my skin, his touch lingered.
Blinking back to the real world, I observed Jason tucking Marybeth safely into her booster seat.
He shut the door after her, then turned around to face me, all pale blue eyes and goofy grin.
This was it for the night. Just goodbyes.
Us alone, for the first time since he’d shown up at my house with pizza and offered me a hand up.
I sobered quickly.
Tell him what you chose.
You need to tell him.
Tell him you want to be his friend.
Tell him about the money.
Tell him.
My mouth refused to open.
Jason regarded me with quiet intensity. He’d snuck beneath the walls I’d begun to throw back up like he’d memorized where they were going. I shivered, not from the chill this time, but because even with my forts rising once more, Jason made me feel bare.
“You didn’t come out for the movie,” he said, voice kind, once again reading my mind. “Did you?”
My heart stuttered.
For a moment, it was hard to breathe.
Hard to admit my choice.
A big step.
A step I’d thought I was taking alone—only now…I wasn’t so sure.
I shook my head, relieved I didn’t have to ask. My heart was pounding now, and it wouldn’t stop. Galloping faster than it had on my run. Making me feel sick with it. Sick with loss too, because all I wanted in that moment was Jason’s hand back on my nape, grounding me.
I wanted to go back to twenty minutes ago, when the only thing I had to worry about was his smile.
But I couldn’t.
I was Joe again. Not that fuzzyheaded fool. And I needed to put my “big boy” pants on and open my goddamn mouth.
Jason’s eyes flashed with something protective. He’d looked at me that way before, when I’d fallen apart on him, left snot on his shoulder,and bolted because the shame and mortification of letting myself break like that had nearly torn me apart.
I didn’t know what to do with that look.
“Did you think about my offer?” Jason asked.
I nodded. “I…yes.”
“And you’re taking it,” he confirmed.
Again, I nodded.
A smile unfurled on Jason’s lips.
Heart still skipping, my hands shaking, I forced my mouth to open again.
“And the other one,” I said quietly, about ready to puke, I was so overwhelmed. “I’m accepting that one, too.”
“The…other one?” Jason blinked. It took him a second, but the moment he realized what I’d been alluding to his friendship, his smile softened. Gooey. Like melted caramel. “Oh,” he said simply. “I’m very, very, very happy about that.”
Embarrassed, I ducked my head.
Jason’s current smile was warmer than the ones he’d offered everyone else throughout the night. Smaller in a way that made it feel more genuine. “Good choice.” He reached out, plucking at a lock of hair that’d fallen across my forehead. “I’ll be by tomorrow with a check. That sound doable?”
I nodded a third time, throat dry, unable to look at him.
His hands rested by his thighs, still. One twitched, like he’d been about to reach out for me—but didn’t.
“Goodnight, Joe.” Jason waited for a beat for me to reply, and when I couldn’t get my mouth to open again, his voice remained tender. “Drive safe, please.”
And with that, he let me go.
Jason climbed into his truck.
The lights flicked on.
The parking lot illuminated as Jason backed up and away.
Gone.
Just like that.
With the tornado departed, I was left to stew in silence.
But it wasn’t the same kinda stewing I’d done before.
This felt tender somehow.
Just like his smile had.
I went home to my cold, broken farmhouse, and a spark of something strange and new unfurled in my belly. Indigestion, maybe? I blamed the lasagna. Not Jason’s smile. Or his kindness. Or the fact that we were officially, definitely friends.
Nope.
Not at all.