Chapter 14
Claire
It turns out that Chloe creepily insisting on me wearing layers was actually helpful.
The library air was on full blast tonight, but thanks to my hoodie, I managed to survive.
I ended up staying for almost an hour after my session with Zach and even managed to brainstorm a few ideas for a novel.
It was so surreal even putting them on paper — like songs of my dreams being played out loud.
The only reason I left was because they were closing at nine.
That, and my stomach was growling so much they probably would have kicked me out anyway.
The vending machine, which is usually stocked with everything from Chex Mix to PopTarts, was severely lacking tonight.
Apparently, all of the moms bringing their kids to story times throughout the day have no respect for us grown-ups who need ample amounts of processed sugars to exist.
So, when I was driving past the strip mall, I didn’t necessarily make a conscious decision to stop at Enzo’s so much as I was pulled there by the forces of fresh sauce and gooey mozzarella cheese.
Between Jay and Chloe, it must have been practically brainwashed into my mind because suddenly I was parallel parking a little ways from the building.
Before I even thought it through, I shoved my phone in my front pocket and my wallet in the back and headed towards the restaurant.
As weird as it sounds, I smell him before I see him.
In reality, the mix of tobacco and mint could have been anyone, but somehow, I knew it was Jay.
Leaning with his foot propped and his back against the wall, he still stands over six feet tall.
He’s wearing dark denim jeans and a black t-shirt that tugs across his chest, sleeves clinging to his biceps like the two things are welded together.
He’s staring off again, like I've already seen before.
Either into space or at the ground, it's like his head is somewhere else.
What is it that his mind is always running to? Or maybe running from.
I clear my throat in my subtle attempt to get his attention.
He glances at me without breaking his serious exterior and drops his sight back down to the sidewalk he was staring at.
From there, his eyes begin to move slowly up my legs.
They stop at my waist, then continue up my torso, and suddenly I wish I would have at least left my hoodie in my car.
Finally, his exploration continues to my face, pausing I notice, just a beat longer on my lips.
It’s only when our eyes meet that the intensity of his face softens just a little, the corners of his mouth turning upward so slightly you might miss it if you weren’t paying attention.
Luckily for me, I was definitely paying attention — to everything about him.
“Claire.” Despite my warm clothing, I feel goosebumps form as my body remembers the effect he has on me by just speaking my name. “What did we say about stalking?”
“Jay.” I surprise myself with my quick reaction.
“What did we say about quitting?” I gesture towards his half-smoked cigarette.
“Plus, I’m not stalking, just starving, and someone said this is the best pizza in town.
” Pointing to the neon sign in the window I add, “Please tell me they’re still open. ”
“For…” He pulls his phone from his pocket, and I can see from the screen the time reads 9:18 pm. “Twelve minutes.” He puts his cigarette out on the wall and trashes the butt, then nods his head towards the door.
There’s a slight panic that crawls up my body as I realize he’s asking if I want to go in — with him.
Considering I just miraculously showed up here, I didn’t think I might see him.
Had I, I definitely would have done my makeup and ditched the oversized college hoodie for a school I didn’t even attend.
I catch my reflection in the window and wince.
Yep, that’s a cheese curl stain from my subpar vending machine purchase earlier this evening.
Curse the little rats who stole all of the PopTarts.
A Frosted Brown Sugar Cinnamon would never have let me down like this.
Without waiting for my response, Jay pulls back the door to Enzo’s and holds it open for me to pass through, his tattoos on full display. Because suddenly I’m sweating, I quickly strip off my hoodie and tie it around my waist before moving through the door.
The perfect combination of fresh basil and fried food floods my senses the second I step into the restaurant.
The decor is familiar but unique. There’s black and white checkered flooring and red leather seat cushions, reminiscent of traditional pizza parlors, but the wall art screams one-of-a-kind.
Where old-school places might hang pictures of classic doughboys with chef hats and handlebar mustaches, this one has ones of mob bosses and vintage Italian gangsters.
There’s a wide serving window right in front displaying a dozen different types of pizza.
Most of the pies are down to just a slice or two, considering the time, but my mouth still waters at what’s left.
Behind the window is an open kitchen and to the left are a handful of two-top tables, the majority of which already have their chairs flipped on top of them.
A tan, bearded guy, probably several years older than me, approaches the counter wiping his hands on a shabby dishrag. He’s wearing a worn white Enzo’s shirt, a dusted black apron, and a scar above his right eye.
“Yo, Jay! I thought you guys were goin’ to River’s?” the worker says and apparently these two know each other.
“Yeah, we did but I bailed early. Sean and Ro will be there awhile.”
“Cool, cool. Can I get you guys somethin’?” He looks from Jay to me, then back to Jay with a look on his face I just can’t place. Surprise maybe?
“This is Claire. Claire, Mikey.”
He answers Jay with an approving look then speaks in my direction. “Pleasure.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mikey.”
Ordering for the both of us, Jay says, “We’ll take two slices each of whatever you got left.” Turning to me he adds in a softer voice, “Don’t worry, they’re all good.”
“You got it, boss. Have a seat and I’ll bring ‘em right over.” Mikey hands him two empty cups and moves to throw the slices in the oven.
I go for my wallet but before I reach it, Jay grabs my forearm gently, pulling it back.
My whole body tenses as his hand brands my flesh beneath its touch, but that quickly it’s gone as he holds one of the cups out for me to take, the skin where his hand once was, left raw and vacant.
Did he feel that too? I shake the curiosity from my mind and follow him to the soda fountain.
I thank him for the pizza looking at my soda choices. I land on 7Up and fill my cup with extra ice.
“Don’t worry about it,” he replies. “I know the owner.” He fills his cup next. I wouldn’t have taken him for a root beer guy.
We walk to the closest table that still has both chairs on the floor. I place my wallet on the table so I don’t have to sit on it. Jay pulls a now familiar teal box and lighter from his pocket and mimics the movement before taking the seat across from me.
“You know, when people share a meal they usually talk to each other too,” I say remembering his “I’m not good at this” comment. “Are you sure you’re up for that?” I say it sarcastically but the reality is I’m not sure I’m up for it.
He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. He’s not even flexing and his colorful biceps bulge against his fists.
“And what is it that these people tend to talk about?”
“Well, typically they talk about their day or their jobs or things they like. Sometimes it’s even more than a dozen words if you can believe it.” I raise my eyebrows challenging him. He remains silent for what feels like hours before he finally speaks.
“Okay, smartass.” He smiles the most honest smile before regaining his composure and landing in a smirk. “My day was long, my job is fine, and I like classic cars.” He pauses. “And you.”
My breath hitches at his last two words.
“And you.” We lock eyes. His face is completely serious but the sea of gold and green I’m swimming in tells me he’s just as shocked by his confession as I am.
Afraid to speak, I hold our gaze a second longer.
It’s only when Mikey reaches between us to drop our food, do I dare look down.
“Here you go, amici.” He spins one plate in front of Jay and the other to me.
“Oh, and Ro texted. He said just lock up when you’re done.
” I look up surprised as Mikey holds a fist out in Jay’s direction.
I watch him return the gesture, his eyes still locked on me.
He breaks the intensity, casting a playful wink in my direction as Mikey heads towards the exit.
“Like I said,” he says, “I know the owner.”