5. Conor
Conor
Nope.
This is the opposite of simple. In fact, this is messier than a state championship baby back rib-eating contest. The extra-saucy kind.
Because being “just friends” with Jess looks like it's going to be even harder than I thought.
“Mmm.” Jess takes another bite of tortellini, closes her eyes and sighs. “This is the best pasta I’ve ever eaten.”
We’re out on Aiden’s newly-renovated patio, sitting across from each other at the butcher block dining table I built.
The sizzling scorch of the day has given way to a balmy late evening, and the sky is streaked with a blaze of pinks and purples.
Notes of citronella carry through the thick, warm air.
On the table in front of us lies a mouth-watering spread of Italian food.
But I barely notice, because under the table, my knees are mere inches away from Jess’s.
She has a fleck of tomato sauce on her lower lip. I have the most indescribable urge to reach out and brush it away with my thumb. Apparently, I’m eager to rack up a bunch more creep points.
In order to keep my wayward thumb from executing regrettable actions of its own accord, I pick up my wine glass and take a massive swig of Merlot. A swig so massive, I almost choke. Classy.
“Glad you like it.” I set my glass down with more force than intended, resulting in an unceremonious clank that makes Jess jump.
She’s Aiden’s sister, dude.
I repeat: Aiden’s sister.
I’m trying to put all of my confusing feelings aside and treat Jess as a regular, normal human… person. Look at her like she’s Aiden in a dress, or something.
But Jess is making it very difficult for my brain to cooperate. Because the more I learn about Jess, the more I want to know.
Over our heaping plates of four cheese tortellini, she tells me about majoring in Art History at Emory and working at a gallery in Cabbagetown after graduation. She moved to New York a year later.
But, what I really learn are the things that lie beneath Jess’s words.
I learn that her face lights up when we talk about art, and that she purses her lips when she doesn’t like a question.
I learn that she collects postcards, thinks talk shows are lame, and that she never swears.
I learn that she moves her food around on her plate between bites, and drinks her wine in tiny little sips, like she’s not quite sure she loves it.
But most of all, I learn that Jess isn’t just pretty.
Oh no. Jess is smart, funny, witty, sarcastic and—perhaps most endearingly of all—she has absolutely zero idea.
Like, zilch.
When Aiden called earlier to let me know that Jess was ten minutes away, he’d mentioned she was here due to some kind of trouble with her boyfriend. Maybe they broke up?
“So… how long are you visiting for?” I dig deeper, mental shovel at the ready.
Jess’s smile slips off her face.
“Indefinitely.” She addresses her plate.
I wait in silence, not wanting to push her.
“I just got out of a relationship,” she says, splaying her hands across the table. Her fingers are small, her shell-pink nail polish chipped. “When we broke up, I had no reason to stay in New York. So I gave up my apartment and came home.”
The devil on one shoulder tap-dances with joy, while the angel on my other tells me to lay down my shovel and stop digging. I can’t get over how sad her tone is, how hopeless she sounds.
I’m sure there’s more to the story, but not wanting to upset her, I decide to stop digging for now.
“I’m sorry.”
Her eyes flicker to meet mine for a split second and she nods. “It’s okay.”
She sees the skeptical look on my face, and continues. “Honestly, it is. Johnny and I, we weren’t a great match anymore. We were too… comfortable. Worn out. Like old shoes, you know?”
“I do,” I say, thinking of my favorite hole-filled Nikes at the back of my closet. Even though I never wear them anymore, I can’t bear to part with them.
Jess sighs. “The shoes no longer fit, but I was too scared to throw them away. In case I... never found another pair of shoes.”
“Nobody wants to be barefoot forever,” I agree, then mentally dropkick myself for saying something so stupid.
But Jess smiles softly. “Exactly.”
There is nothing on this earth as attractive as a woman who’s beautiful inside and out.
From the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew Jess was physically attractive—with her wavy dark hair, gelato eyes, sprinkling of freckles on her nose, and her full, pink lips.
But, as we sit here and talk, she becomes more captivating with every word she says.
And all of that without even touching on those killer curves she has. The ones I keep trying to avoid staring at.
You know, because of those creep points.
“So, Conor Brady.” Jess’s voice makes me jump again. She swirls her wine glass in small circles on the tabletop, creating a whirlpool in her glass. Her eyes dart in all directions, looking anywhere but at me.
She’s trying to change the subject in the cutest way possible.
“So, what?” I give her a slow, flirty smile. I swear, I can’t help myself.
Jess continues to avoid eye contact. “Tell me about yourself.”
I wipe my hands on a napkin and lean towards her. She touches her hair and blinks. I give her another smile. “What do you want to know?”
She frowns slightly and runs her tongue across her teeth. A seemingly innocent action that she needs to stop. Immediately.
“Aiden told me you’re a house flipper.”
“When I get time off from my ax murdering job,” I joke, averting my eyes from her mouth.
Jess winces.
“Too soon?”
“I’ll be locking my bedroom door tonight, just in case.”
“Wise choice.” I grin. “So, what else can I tell you to soothe your nerves about this unexpected roommate situation?”
“Let me see…” Jess taps a finger against her chin. “The first thing that makes me suspicious is that you’re a house flipper who doesn’t have his own house.”
I frown. “I currently have three houses I’m working on.”
“But you live with Aiden?”
Ahhh. That’s what she’s getting at.
“Temporarily,” I explain, scooping more pasta onto her empty plate.
“Aiden offered me a place to crash for a couple of months while I renovate a house I bought for myself. It’s actually the fourth project I have on the go right now.
But it’s a bit of a gut job, including the kitchen and bathrooms. So Aiden pretty much saved me from having to pitch a tent in my backyard. ”
Jess reddens, and my less than ideal word choice falls on me like acid rain. Really, Conor? I’m about as smooth as a gravel road right now.
A gravel road full of massive potholes.
I press my lips together and try to blow past the awkwardness. “If you’re uncomfortable with me being here, Jess, I can find another place to crash tomorrow. Even sleep in a tent outside tonight. I’d totally understand.”
“Stay as long as you like.” Jess holds up her hands and I breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe my Freudian slip went over her head, after all. “I’m in no position to judge, after all. You’re looking at a twenty-eight-year-old jobless, homeless lady who’s had to move in with her brother.”
“Quite the catch,” I tease, glad she didn’t accept my offer and effectively eject me from my cozy bed.
“Says the man shacking up with my brother so he doesn't have to spend the summer camping.” Jess shoots me a grin.
I hold up three fingers and tilt my chin. “I was a Boy Scout. I would have managed.”
“Did you know how to pitch a tent back then, too?”
My jaw hits the floor and my eyebrows shoot up. She didn’t… Did she just go there?
I scan her face, looking for a tell, and she stares right back at me, all big eyes and innocent expression. Like butter won’t melt. Does she want a literal answer? Like, whether I know how to actually lay a groundsheet and assemble tent poles and peg down a fly?
I look at that innocent face again and see the ghost of a smile flicker over the edge of her lips.
That SO didn’t go over her head… She’s totally playing with me.
But, I need to behave. I’ve already crossed so many lines, I could weave myself a blanket. Hopefully one I can hide under. Because I’m supposed to be focusing on being her friend right now.
I shouldn’t be flirting with her.
And certainly not cracking inappropriate jokes.
Even if she started it.
I drag my eyes away and force myself to think about something—anything—other than her pink cheeks. And that ridiculously weather-inappropriate baby blue sweater that I’m totally not dying to take off of her. Nope, not even in the least.
Awkward silence stretches between my new friend and I.
I finally say, “well…”
Just as Jess says, “so…”
Our eyes meet again, and in a single look, the tension snaps. We both laugh and I breathe a sigh of relief.
“I’d better start clearing up.” I veer the conversation to safer pastures.
Because, you know, AIDEN’S SISTER .
I begin stacking empty dishes on the table between us.
Jess jumps to her feet. “I’ll help.” She reaches out and her hand touches mine, stopping me mid-stack. “And Conor?”
“Yeah?” I say, looking pointedly at where her fingers brush my skin.
“Because you made dinner and rescued my fern, I won’t force you to set up camp in the backyard tonight. Just don’t murder me, k?”
And with that, she grins and winks before sashaying to the kitchen, the bottom of her blue dress swinging from side to side.
Leaving me alone on the patio, staring after her, and feeling anything but friendly towards my new roommate.