Chapter Eleven #2
“Nothing major, I just saw it, and it reminded me of you, and—”
His neck flushes the more he talks; he finally just mutters the rest of whatever he’d been about to say as he moves to the edge of the counter and rifles around in one of the drawers.
“What, did you hide it?” I laugh.
He shrugs. “Couldn’t decide if it was weird that I got it.”
“Why would it be weird?”
“Because half the time, I don’t even know if we’re friends?”
He says it nonchalantly, but for some reason, I feel a wave of guilt crash over me when he does.
It’s true that up until recently, we very much could be cemented in the not friends category, but…
I don’t know. He did offer me a place to stay.
He did listen to everything I had to say when he was spiraling. He did make me BFF nachos.
“I mean…you’re currently sharing your ice cream with me straight from the tub,” I point out. “I think that might make us…kind of friends?”
His mouth quirks. “I can work with ‘kind of friends.’ ”
“It’s better than you insisting on meet-cutes and endgames.”
“I maintain that we had a fabulous meet-cute.”
“Do you even remember when you first met me?”
“I was in a towel talking about soap and my balls,” he says matter-of-factly.
I blanch. “That can’t be true.”
“Of course it is,” he insists. “You had come to see Ian, and we had run out of my usual bodywash, and all there was in the bathroom was this weird bar Ian uses, and I’m pretty sure it’s for his balls, so I said—”
“Okay, okay,” I say with a wince. “I do not want to talk about my brother’s balls.”
“But mine aren’t off the table?”
“No balls,” I urge. “Now give me my present.”
“Oh. Right.” He looks shy all of a sudden, plucking something small out of the drawer he’d been rummaging in and holding it in his palm so I can’t see it. “Remember, it’s nothing special.”
“Just give it to me,” I insist.
He smirks. “That’s what she said.”
“Do you want me to stab you with a spoon?”
“I’m not sure that’s entirely possible.”
“We could find out.”
“But I’m injured,” he says with a pout. “Surely you wouldn’t risk—”
“Jack,” I huff. “Give me my damned present.”
“Fine.”
He holds out his palm, eyes darting away from me as he uncurls his fingers to reveal the ugliest thing I have ever seen in my entire life.
I can’t help it; I bark out a laugh.
“What the fuck is this?”
“I don’t know,” he says, rubbing his neck as I take it from him. “It just reminded me of you.”
I stare at the key chain of some wrinkly little animal in my hand, eyeing its grumpy-looking face. “This reminded you of me?”
“Well, yeah,” he laughs, looking a little less awkward. “You both look so grumpy.”
“I do not look like this,” I snort. I snatch his tub of ice cream from the counter. “I demand the rest of the ice cream as compensation for this egregious claim.”
“Oh, come on,” he says, making a swipe for the ice cream. “I think it’s kind of cute.”
“Cute? It’s not cute.” I pull the tub closer to my chest. “It’s wrinkly.”
“It’s just because you both look so—”
I make a sound of surprise when my feet slip from underneath me, still clutching the tub of ice cream as strong arms encircle me. Jack pulls me up against his chest before I can fall to the kitchen tile, his brown eyes wide with alarm and his brow furrowed with concern.
“Are you all right?”
“Fine,” I say. “Just slipped.”
His mouth quirks. “That’s what you get for dissing my present and trying to steal my ice cream.”
“You got me a key chain of a naked mole rat and said it reminded you of me.”
“It’s an armadillo!”
I roll my eyes. “Because that makes it so much better.”
“Well, give it back then,” he huffs. “I’ll give him to someone who appreciates him.”
“Oh, no,” I say, gripping the ugly little key chain tighter in my hand. “This is mine now. I will be telling everyone we know that you said this thing looks like me.”
“I said it reminded me of you,” he laughs.
And that’s when it hits me.
He’s still holding me.
I’m still letting him.
It seems Jack picks up on the same thing at the same time, his lips parting in surprise as his eyes rake across my face.
This close, it’s easy to see the slight spray of freckles across the bridge of his nose, easy to notice the little scar in his eyebrow that I’ve never clocked before. I wonder how he got it?
I watch his throat work with a swallow, and then he’s carefully hoisting me back onto my feet, his hands sliding under my elbows to hold me steady as I get my bearings.
“We have got to stop meeting like this,” he says finally, a hint of amusement in his voice.
“At least you’re not half-naked this time,” I mumble.
He smirks. “Does that make it better or worse, would we say?”
“Better,” I say with a huff. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Someone has to,” he says with a beleaguered sigh. He holds out his hand. “Ice cream, please.”
I hold it out to him, keeping the silly key chain tucked into my other palm. Jack notices, looking a little flustered again.
“You really don’t have to keep it,” he mutters.
Now it’s my turn to smirk. “Are you trying to take my present back?”
At my teasing tone, he looks a little more relaxed.
“I knew you wanted it.”
I eye the ugly little creature with a snicker. “I guess it’s a good reminder to smile more.”
“I like it when you smile,” Jack says, looking immediately taken aback, like he didn’t mean to say it out loud. “I mean—I just meant—”
Oh God. Is Jack actually kind of…adorable?
This is not good for my health.
“I’ll try to be a little less grumpy,” I tell him, saving him from his own embarrassment.
He looks relieved, taking another bite of ice cream. “I’m just thinking of your health.”
“Truly, the best friend a girl could ask for.”
He juts his spoon out toward me. “I knew those BFF nachos would do the job.”
“The ice cream helps.”
“So I just keep feeding you until we’re besties,” he says. “Good to know.”
And with that, he digs a giant bite of ice cream out of the tub, holding it out to me.
I know I should refuse it, if for no other reason than it feels way more boyfriend-y and less friendly, but the way he’s smiling at me…I find myself leaning in before I can stop myself, taking the offered bite.
Something flashes in Jack’s eyes when my lips close over the spoon, there and gone so quickly one might almost miss it.
But I don’t.
And suddenly this entire exchange feels far too intimate.
“Well,” I say, clearing my throat. “I’d better get to bed. I’ve got an early day tomorrow.”
“Sure,” Jack says. “I should probably do the same.”
I jangle the key chain in my hand, smiling shyly. “Thanks for the ugly gift.”
“You’re welcome,” he laughs. “Anything for my new bestie.”
“Don’t make me regret it,” I tell him.
He crosses a finger over his heart. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
It isn’t until I’m safely back in my room that I allow myself to glance back at the truly horrible little key chain, smiling despite the fact as I think about Jack picking it out because it reminded him of me.
So I guess this makes it official, I think. Without being able to pinpoint where and how exactly it happened, I am apparently friends with Jack Baker. But that’s not the worst of it, unfortunately.
Because I’m still sort of thinking about his nipples.