Chapter 10 #2
“Tomorrow evening works,” I said. “After closing?”
“It’s a date.” He winked. “Another one.”
Heat crept up my neck. Another date. The way Jack’s attention was focused entirely on me, the intimate undertone to our conversation, the flutter in my chest every time he smiled—it all felt dangerously fast.
We finished our meal and shared a slice of apple pie for dessert, the way we always did. When the check came, Jack reached for it.
“I can pay my half,” I said. “We always split the bill.”
“Nope.” Jack shook his head. “This is our first official date. My treat.”
“But—”
“Cooper.” Jack cut me off gently. “Let me buy you dinner.”
Something in his tone made me pause. He seemed almost…earnest. As if this mattered to him beyond something short-term.
“Fine,” I relented. “But I’m paying next time.”
Jack’s grin was soft around the edges. “Deal.”
As we left the diner, several patrons called out congratulations or made teasing comments. Jack’s hand found mine again, our fingers interlacing as naturally as if we’d been doing this for years instead of hours.
The walk back to my apartment was quiet, the streets of Seacliff Cove peaceful under the rising moon. Jack’s thumb had resumed its gentle circles on my skin, and I leaned slightly closer to him as we walked.
I fumbled with my keys when we reached my apartment door, aware of Jack standing close behind me. The evening air carried the salt tang of the ocean and the faint warmth radiating from his body.
“I had a really good time tonight,” Jack said softly.
I turned to face him, my back against the door. “Me, too.” The words came out weighted with an emotion I hadn’t expected to feel so intensely.
Jack stepped closer, close enough that I could smell his familiar scent—spicy body wash and something uniquely him I’d never been able to identify. His blue eyes searched mine in the dim porch light.
“Cooper,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can I kiss you?”
My heart hammered against my ribs. “Please.”
He cupped my face with gentle hands, and his thumbs brushed across my cheekbones.
His lips met mine. This was nothing like the impulsive kiss at the bar.
That had been spontaneous, fueled by adrenaline and surprise.
This was deliberate, chosen, and all the more overwhelming because of it.
This kiss was unhurried, tender, full of question and promise.
I melted into him, and my hands found the solid breadth of his shoulders. Every nerve ending came alive where our bodies touched, chest to thighs. When we finally broke apart, I was breathing hard, my heart racing like I’d just pounded down a gallon of coffee.
Jack looked equally affected—his pupils dilated, a flush high on his cheekbones, his breath coming in short pants. He shook his head as if to clear it.
But then worry crept into his expression, and he took a small step back. “Cooper, did we just—did we cross a line we weren’t supposed to?”
I wanted to reassure him, to ease the uncertainty I could see building in his eyes. “It’s no big deal,” I said, meaning to sound casual and understanding.
But instead of relief, something that looked like hurt flashed across Jack’s face. His shoulders tensed, and he looked away, suddenly finding the ground very interesting.
I frowned, confused by his reaction. I’d meant to tell him there was no pressure, that he didn’t need to worry about our bargain or any boundaries we might have crossed. But the way Jack’s jaw tightened told me my words had landed completely wrong, though I couldn’t figure out why.
“So…” His throat worked as he swallowed. “So, tomorrow evening, for event planning?”
“Right. The event.” I grasped at the subject like a lifeline. “Around six?”
“Six works.” Jack stepped back, slightly unsteady. “I should probably head home.”
“Thanks for dinner.”
He paused. “Goodnight…baby.” The pet name sent a shiver through me.
“Goodnight, snookums,” I replied, unable to form anything more coherent.
He chuckled as he left.
I unlocked my door, stepped into my apartment, and pressed my fingers to my lips. I could still feel the ghost of his kiss.
I’d spent most of my life categorizing relationships into clear, defined compartments. Friends in one box, romantic interests in another, family in a third. Jack had always been firmly in the friend box, so essential to that category that he practically defined it.
But now? Now the boundaries blurred. The boxes reshaped themselves without my permission. Friend, boyfriend—the labels seemed inadequate and overlapped in ways I couldn’t neatly separate.
Jack and I had kissed—really kissed this time. And it had been…incredible. Nothing like the comfortable, platonic feelings I’d always had for him.
I sank onto my couch, my legs suddenly wobbly.
As I sat there, the phantom sensation of Jack’s lips still tingling on mine, I had to admit the truth to myself: something had shifted.
I was looking at Jack differently now, seeing him not just as my best friend but as someone who pulled me to him like a magnet.
I had four weeks to see where this would lead.