Chapter 17
Jack
Sixteen Weeks
This is stupid.
I look around the crowded bar, feeling miserable and nursing a beer that I don’t really want.
Why am I here?
I know exactly why. Because getting turned on by my friend slash roommate slash best friend’s widow brought up a bunch of feelings I do not even want to begin to unpack. I feel gross, and ashamed, and sick to my stomach. What the fuck is wrong with me?
It shouldn’t matter that seeing her like that was maybe the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s Abby, and Abby can’t be hot. She’s…Abby.
What the fuck is wrong with me, indeed.
It’s got to be that I’ve been celibate for longer than I care to admit.
Between all the work at the fire station, hanging out with the group, and spending time with Granny, there’s not time for much else.
And normally I don’t care. But if I’m so pent up that just seeing her like that gave me the strongest orgasm of my life, then I have got to get laid.
The problem is, I’m no good at a one-night stand. Never have been. It takes me too long to warm up to someone enough to want to sleep with them, and when someone is just looking for a good time, there’s not a lot of patience there.
But I don’t have much of a choice tonight. I’ve got to make this work–get it out of my system. Downing the rest of my beer in one go, I let my gaze drift around the room until I catch the eye of a woman a few seats down from where I’m seated at the bar.
She smiles, wiggling her fingers in a wave. I return her smile, lifting my hand in response, then push off the stool and walk over to her.
“Do you smile at all the girls like that, or am I just special?” she asks sweetly, fluttering her eyelashes.
Okay, here you go.
“Well,” I say, furrowing my brow like I’m really contemplating it. “Considering you’re the only girl I’ve smiled at tonight, I’d say you’re pretty special.”
She beams in response, and I sit down next to her, ordering a round of drinks.
She’s pretty–her brown hair is cut just above her collarbone, and I’m sure her big doe eyes do it for lots of men.
For some reason, I get a mental image of a monster that lures you in with its cuteness before it goes for the kill.
“So, what’s your name?” she asks, leaning in unnecessarily close and placing her hand on my forearm.
“Jack,” I shout over the loud music. “What about you?”
“Danielle,” she says, hand still resting on my arm. “But everyone calls me Dani. You can call me whatever you want.”
Subtle.
“Well, Dani,” I ask, already regretting this. “Tell me about yourself.”
For the next twenty minutes, the girl doesn’t take a single break from talking. I hear everything from her astrology sign to her childhood pets to her crazy ex-boyfriend to what she had for breakfast this morning.
“Sorry,” she smiles sheepishly. “I talk a lot when I’m nervous.”
“What’s there to be nervous about?”
She bites her lip, unashamedly looking me up and down.
“You’re like, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen,” she says in a sultry voice. “I’m trying not to fumble right now.”
“I think you’re doing just fine, Dani.”
With another grin, she trails her fingers up and down my arm.
“Do you wanna get out of here?”
No.
“Sure, let’s do it,” I agree.
Settling up the tab, I lead her through the crowd with my hand on the small of her back. The second we get outside, she turns on me, lips crashing against mine as she backs me into the wall.
I kiss her back, trying to feel any sort of response to her. She gets more into it, practically riding my thigh out here in the open. But the more enthusiastic she gets, the more I want to run away.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, a very welcome distraction.
“Sorry, I need to take this.”
Walking a few steps away, I see David’s phone on the screen.
“Hey man, what’s up?”
“Where the hell are you?”
His harsh tone takes me aback. “I’m at the bar, about to leave.”
“Leave with someone? Or are you going home?”
“Umm, well,” I stammer. “I was planning to leave with someone, but if something’s wrong I can come over. Do you need something?”
Please say yes.
“You should definitely come over,” he murmurs. “But I’m not at home, I’m at Abby’s.”
What?
“What the hell are you doing there?”
“She called me earlier, she was upset,” he said, his tone turning sharp again. “She was lonely. Said you left without really saying anything. You hurt her feelings, man.”
“Shit,” I mutter, looking over my shoulder at Dani, who looks increasingly annoyed the longer I talk. “Okay, let me handle this, and then I’ll be home. Thanks for calling me.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says dismissively. “Just don’t be a dick, okay? She told me what happened; it’s not her fault you walked in on her.”
“She told you about that?”
“And she told me you freaked the hell out about it. Figure your shit out and get over it, there are more important things than feeling embarrassed.”
Guilt grips my insides, making it impossible to take a full breath.
“Okay,” I choke out. “I’ll come home. And I’ll apologize.”
“Good,” he says, and abruptly hangs up.
Turning back to Dani, I give her an apologetic grimace.
“Listen, I hate to do this to you–”
“No, you don’t,” she scoffs. “I’m not stupid, I can tell you weren’t that into me. Don’t lie.”
“I really am sorry,” I plead. “I wasn’t trying to waste your time; I was just trying to get back out there. It’s been a while.”
“ Yeah, well, next time, make sure you’re actually ready to get back out there,” she says bitterly. “Instead of using someone as your guinea pig.”
With that, she turns on her heel and stalks inside, leaving me feeling like a huge piece of shit. She’s right–I was using her. Everything I’ve done since the moment I opened that bedroom door has been selfish, and borderline cruel.
Walking back to my Jeep like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, I send Abby a text.
Jack: Hey, I’m on my way home. I’m sorry I left the way I did earlier.
No response.
Jack: I’ll see you soon.
After a few moments of waiting for a response, I come to terms with the fact that I’m not getting one and start my own weird version of a walk of shame back home.
When I step into the house, it’s quiet and dark, except for one small lamp in the living room.
I make my way toward the room, ready to apologize profusely, but find Abby sound asleep on the couch.
Her arms rest on the small bump that’s been showing more and more, and there’s a wet spot on the pillow from where she was obviously crying. The guilt threatens to snap me in two.
“Hey, pretty girl,” I murmur, stroking her hair. “Let’s get you to bed.”
She stirs, eyes opening slowly and looking confused.
“Jack Robbit?”
I smile, my first genuine one all night.
“Don’t call me that,” I tease, the way I always do. “C’mon, let's go.”
She groans, rubbing her eyes.
“Don’t want to,” she mumbles. “Let me sleep here.”
Without thinking, I scoop her into my arms and carry her down the hallway.
“You’ll be all stiff and cranky if I let you do that,” I chuckle when she yelps in surprise. “And you’ll be more mad at me than you already are.”
“I am mad at you, Jack Robb.”
Her face is twisted up in anger, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. They look…sad. That’s about a million times worse.
“I know,” I whisper. “I’m sorry.”
I lay her gently on her bed, pulling the duvet up and tucking her in carefully.
“You left,” she whispers, lifting her head. “And I didn’t know where you were. Or if anything happened to you.”
“I know,” I whisper hoarsely. “It won’t happen again. I promise.”
She nods, laying her head back down, and I turn to leave.
“Jack?” she asks, brow furrowing and fighting to keep her eyes open.
“Yeah?” I respond, turning back toward her.
“Do you really think I’m pretty?”
The question catches me off guard. I didn’t mean to call her that earlier, and I was hoping she didn’t hear it. It just slipped out.
But you meant it.
“Yes, pretty girl,” I say. “I really do.”
“Good,” she says, settling into her pillow and pulling the blankets up to her chin. “Because I am. Don’t you forget it.” And with that, she falls asleep, her breaths evening out and the crease between her eyes relaxing.
I slowly creep out of her room, closing the door quietly so I don’t wake her.
Once I make up the couch and slide into the sheets, I stare at the ceiling and talk to Aaron–a habit I’ve gotten into since the first time I stayed over here.
I fucked up tonight, dude, I’m sorry. I promise she won’t ever shed another tear because of something I did.
Closing my eyes, a single tear slips out from beneath my lids and rolls down my cheek. So much of my energy is going toward making sure Abby and Little One are cared for, but in these quiet moments when I’m alone–I really fucking miss my friend.