6. Jess
Jess
When I learned that Aiden was out of town, I anticipated a night alone in front of the TV.
I was going to put on my comfiest sweatpants and watch endless reruns of Friends while eating Betty Crocker frosting right out of the carton.
And then I would cry, because I was sad, lonely, and I’d just eaten frosting out of the carton.
And so on and so forth, until I ended up in a spiral of failure and regret.
But then, in some miraculous twist of fate, my plans were derailed and I ended up on the best dinner date I’d been on in years.
And yes, I know it wasn’t a date.
But it was still the best not-a-date I’d been on in forever. Which, quite frankly, says a lot about the state of my ex-relationship.
Conor wined and dined me, and, unlike most men, he actually looked at my face during our conversation instead of leering at my chest. I felt like a very sweaty, slightly fluffy Cinderella.
And somewhere between the caesar salad and the second helping of tortellini, my brain even began to function again.
At least, function long enough to discover that Conor’s genuinely nice.
Which, on top of being clean and not being a murderer, was another unexpected plus.
Nobody that good-looking should also be allowed to be so nice.
It’s like getting dealt a twenty-one hand in Blackjack while us mere mortals clutch threes and fours and wonder why we even bothered playing in the first place.
We talked. Laughed. Even flirted a little... I think. As a genuinely awkward, foot-in-mouth type being, flirting has never been my forte.
So, yeah. Dinner went above and beyond all expectations I might’ve had of my brother’s surprise roommate.
But, while we stood side by side washing and drying the pasta pots, the doorbell rang.
And now, just an hour later, I’m not so much starring in Cinderella as I am in Snow White.
Only, instead of being the princess surrounded by the seven dwarves, I am the dwarf, sticking out like a sore thumb in the midst of a group of Aiden and Conor’s glamorous, good looking friends.
They’re sprawled effortlessly, casually, confidently across the gorgeous, rattan wicker outdoor couches.
Music throbs from built-in, state-of-the-art speakers, and the patio is illuminated by the sparkle of the fairy lights overhead. The yard looks like something out of a movie. Conor is clearly very talented at what he does.
“Want a beer, Jess?” a guy named Luke asks. He’s been telling me all about his job as a marketing guru at a tech company downtown. With his designer watch, shades and stubble combo, I don’t doubt that he’s as big a deal as he claims to be.
He’s gorgeous, sure. But I prefer Conor’s rugged, smirking, hammering-nails-into-things-for-a-living aura.
Not that I should be thinking about Conor hammering anything at all.
I shake my head. “No, thanks.”
I’m exhausted at this point, and the glass of wine I had with dinner is still buzzing through my veins. Last thing I need is to drink too much and get sloppy in front of Aiden’s friends. I’ve already embarrassed myself enough today for one lifetime, thank you very much.
“I’ll take one.” A woman named Mindy leans right over Conor to accept a beer from Luke. She presses closer than is necessary, brushing her arm against Conor’s chest.
A tiny, little green-eyed monster rears its ugly head in me. And yes, I know this is insane. I’ve known Conor for a matter of hours. Aiden told me himself that the guy’s a total ladies’ man.
But, still.
Ugh.
“So what brings you to Atlanta, Jess?” Mindy pops the top of her beer and takes a swig.
She’s dressed in a low-cut tank top and curve-hugging shorts, and her fair hair is scooped in a high ponytail.
She’s pretty... in that “super chill girl who claims to be one of the guys but is actually trying to steal your boyfriend” kinda way.
Okay, okay. I know I’m being a little unfair to Mindy, especially considering I met her less than an hour ago. She’s probably lovely. But then again, I thought Sarah was lovely, too. That she was just my boyfriend’s lovely colleague.
Oh, gosh. How could I have been so blind? So stupid? Sarah and Johnny worked together for ages. Had it been going on under my nose for a while and I only just caught him out?
“Jess?” Mindy repeats. Kindly enough that I think I may have misjudged her.
I blink. Exhale. I’ve done well not thinking about Johnny so far, and I don’t want to go there now. I fumble like crazy for something to say. “Oh! Sorry. I’m, um, just here to uh—”
“Get some new shoes,” Conor finishes smoothly.
I look over at him in surprise, and he smiles at me. It’s a small, secret smile that’s meant only for me. A smile that makes my insides turn to Jell-o.
Mindy looks momentarily startled—which is fair, given the lack of context—but she recovers quickly. “Oh, I love shoe shopping. I can definitely go with you, Jess. Are you a boutique shopper or a ‘visit the mall’ sort of girl? Mall, right?”
As she speaks, she lifts one of her legs in a graceful arc, and runs a bare, glitter-toenailed foot across Conor’s leg. I don’t miss the possessiveness in the gesture, the cattiness behind her seemingly innocent question. She’s staking her claim so obviously, she may as well pee all over him.
Looks like my initial judgment was correct.
Or... maybe Conor and Mindy are together, and she’s letting me know it. I mean, she’s practically sitting on top of him. Over dinner, I didn’t even ask Conor if he has a lady in his life. I just went along with what Aiden told me.
Conor shifts in his chair, trying to move Mindy’s foot off him. Maybe they’re not together, but she sure wants to be. That much is crystal clear. Maybe she’s battling it out with Kayla/Marla for the prize.
I give Mindy a tight-lipped smile. “You’re right. I usually shop at the mall.”
I don’t add that high-end boutiques make me feel both uncomfortable and unstylish, and the perma-smiling, hovering salespeople kind of freak me out. As a general rule, I avoid them like the plague.
What’s wrong with Macy’s, anyway? They always have great sales.
To avoid prolonging the painful shoe shopping conversation, I turn my attention to Pete Stevenson, the only person in the group I know. He and Aiden have been friends for years, and apparently they adopted an entirely new social group while I was gone.
I really should have visited more.
“How’s Mia?” I ask Pete.
He lights up like the Fourth of July at the mention of his wife. “She’s great. At home with Oliver tonight. Keeps complaining that she doesn’t want to go anywhere because she feels like an elephant and none of her clothes fit.”
He opens his phone and shows me a million pictures of two-year-old Oliver, and of Mia, who is currently eight months’ pregnant and big as a house.
I nod with a placid smile as an almost-identical series of photos flash before my eyes—Oliver at the beach, making a sandcastle, destroying said sandcastle, Mia dipping her toes in the sand, Mia laughing, and so on and so forth.
“Congratulations,” I tell him. “Please send Mia my love.”
“Will do, Jess,” he replies. He takes a sip of his beer and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s good to see you home. Aiden misses you.”
A smile crosses my face. “Thanks, Pete. I miss him, too.”
“Alright!” Luke booms, grabbing my attention. “Who’s ready to head out?”
A gorgeous brunette lets out a cheer. “Me!”
Across from me, Mindy slips her feet into a pair of killer heels and picks up her pink, sparkly phone. “I’ll book the Ubers.”
There’s a flurry of activity as everybody gets to their feet.
I don’t move, and when I look up, I’m surprised to find that Conor is watching me. I arch an eyebrow at him, asking a silent question.
“Everyone’s headed to a bar in Midtown,” he explains.
“It’s Friday!” Mindy declares, sliding her arm into Conor’s. “On Fridays, we party.”
“Do you want to come?” Conor asks.
I hesitate.
I am so not a party person. Never have been.
In fact, the closest I ever came to enjoying clubbing was my senior year of high school, when it was somehow considered “cool” to do the Cupid Shuffle in the Taco Bell parking lot on Friday nights.
Right after we all got gee-d up on forty-ounce cups of Baja Blast Mountain Dew and chalupas.
Not that I’m going to admit any of that to Mindy.
I study Conor for a moment, unable to decipher the look on his face.
I’m not sure whether he’s asking me to join them out of obligation, or an actual desire for me to come.
It seemed like he was flirting with me over dinner.
Like he was enjoying himself as much as I was.
But now, there’s Mindy. She’s a thing that exists.
Maybe he’s just the guy who flirts as naturally as he breathes. The one who teases you and jokes around with you, but it always means nothing.
While I’m doing mental Olympics over what I’m sure Conor meant to be a simple, straightforward question, the exhaustion suddenly catches up with me.
In one fell swoop, the effects of the painfully long drive and emotional rollercoaster of a day hit me square in the chest. I decide that it doesn’t matter what Conor’s reasons for inviting me are.
Because what I actually need right now is to go to sleep.
“Nah.” I shrug in what I hope is a cute, casual way. “I’m beat. Long drive today and all that. Have fun, though.”
Conor looks at me for a second longer before Mindy tugs on his arm. “Come on, big boy.”
I have to refrain from rolling my eyes, and I’m gratified to see that Conor appears to be doing the same.
“I’ll see you later,” I say, biting my lower lip to hide my amusement.
He smiles that slow, sexy smile. “Later… roomie.”
* * *
By the time I drag myself into bed, I’m absolutely shattered.
After Conor and his friends left, I picked up the beer cans from the yard and tidied up a bit.
I had a momentary dither about whether I should lock the front door, and I finally decided that I should.
If Conor lives here, he must have a key.
Or, at the very least, he should know about the gnome key.
Then, I went straight to the bedroom. Aiden’s bedroom. Don’t judge—his king-sized bed with a Casper mattress and 1000 thread-count sheets is very empty and available, and it called to me way more than the second spare bedroom’s IKEA double ever could.
Today was a whirlwind of epic proportions, and I don’t want to think about anything but how soft these cloudlike, Tempur-pedic pillows feel against my aching, tired head.
Contrary to what I said before he left, I don’t plan to see Conor later.
My actual plan is to be fast asleep long before he comes home.
If he comes home.
Which is something else I don’t care to think about.
Before I doze off, I decide to shoot Aiden a text.
Jess: Hey. Just wanted to say thank you for everything.
Aiden: Anytime, little sis.
Jess: Met some of your friends tonight. They seem cool. Caught up with Pete, too.
Aiden: Awesome. What are you guys doing now?
Jess: Everyone went out. I stayed home.
Aiden: Conor go with them?
I roll my eyes. Aiden’s being about as subtle as a brick thrown through a window.
Jess: Yup. And I’m going to sleep now. Goodnight.
Aiden: You’d better not be in my bedroom.
Jess: Hahahahahahahahaha. As if.
I put my phone on the nightstand and roll over, closing my exhausted eyes. I’m just about to slip into dreamland when my phone buzzes again.
Am I busted? How does Aiden know I was lying? He’s probably got security cameras rigged up, or some magic sibling telepathy, or something.
I reach for my phone, ready to deny, deny, deny.
But, it’s not Aiden.
Unknown number: Sorry about all that. Your unexpected arrival made me forget I had plans tonight.
Warmth gathers in my stomach, but then I read the text again and frown. There’s no way it could be Conor. I didn’t give him my number. This must be a wrong number text; just another weird coincidence to end the weirdest day ever.
But, somehow, I know it’s not a wrong number.
My fingers fly over my screen.
Jess: Who is this?
A response comes in mere seconds.
Unknown number: Conor, of course.
Unknown number: Unless you made an unexpected arrival at someone else’s house today, too?
Unknown number: Is that a thing you do regularly?
I snort. Then, I smile.
Jess : I’m not answering that until you tell me how you got my number, you stalker.
Unknown number: May or may not have asked Aiden for it.
And suddenly, I’m wide awake. Because Conor is at a bar. With his friends. With Mindy. But he’s texting Aiden, asking for my number.
I add his number to my contacts, then send a reply.
Jess: And he actually gave it to you? *surprised emoji*
Conor: Told him I needed it for emergencies.
Jess: Is this an emergency?
Conor: No...
Conor: *smiling emoji*
Butterflies gather in my stomach. He is so flirting right now. I study his message for a minute, then decide to play it as cool as I can.
Jess: Well in that case, goodnight, Conor.
Conor: Night, roomie. See you in the morning.
I fall asleep smiling.