Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Jif grabbed her bag and keys and turned off the classroom lights as they left.
“You don’t have to walk with me.” His growly voice echoed in the hallway.
How could a person who did so much good be so cranky all the rest of the time? Though the constant pain might account for his sourness.
“I know,” she replied brightly. As her happiness overflowed that they’d be coming back again, her spirits lifted.
His presence brought a profound sense of safety.
Not physical safety, necessarily. She’d dated plenty of big, strong guys.
More emotional safety. She could share things with him she didn’t dare share with anyone else in her life.
Maybe Abby, if she wasn’t so busy with her business, and Dylan, and Scott’s career. Not Colton or her mom for sure.
Britt, possibly, but their friendship had never been quite so—what word had Britt used? Vulnerable.
Maybe she should say something about her mixed feelings—her discomfort with her best friend dating her sort-of ex. Maybe then they could have that kind of friendship.
“I don’t mind.” No, holding on to the peace his visits brought for a few extra minutes made the slow walk worth it. She wished she could find a way to make it last past the end of the school day.
He huffed but didn’t mention it again.
Well, why couldn’t she make it last longer? She flashed a wide smile at him. “Want to grab some coffee or something?”
He paused in his careful steps, glancing at her, then flinched. “No.”
“Oh, okay.” She cut her gaze away, hiding her disappointment and the sting of his rejection.
Jordan’s words echoed in her brain.
We’re not really like that.
She and Miles weren’t really like that either, apparently. Even if she thought they’d been on their way to being friends. Not there, yet, of course, but she’d shared things with him she hadn’t shared with anyone else.
Maybe his leg hurt more than usual.
Or maybe he didn’t like her.
No, surely the pain had spoken.
Perhaps another day, then.
They said their goodbyes at the curb, and Jif climbed into her car, but when the radio blared a pop song at her, she reached for the dial and shut it off. The noisy, jarring music didn’t match her decidedly disappointed mood.
Could Miles be right? Should she talk to Britt?
Without consciously choosing, she found herself turning, following the familiar roads to her best friend’s house. The middle school got out about an hour before the elementary school, so hopefully she’d be home.
What should she say?
Hey Britt, I am jealous, and I’m sorry I lied about it. It seriously bothers me that you’re dating Garrett.
Why?
Because I dated him first. Because he’s mine.
Jif shook her head. Garrett wasn’t hers.
Because...
She couldn’t come up with a good reason.
You don’t like to share. Britt’s words came back to her, and she flinched at their brutal honesty. How... shallow.
Selfish.
She pulled up next to an unfamiliar car in Britt’s driveway and groaned. Probably not Garrett’s—not fancy enough—but it meant she already had another visitor.
Well, she’d come all this way. She could at least knock. Maybe apologize and run.
“Jif, what are you doing here?” Britt stood in the doorway, eyes cutting left and right, but not inviting her in.
“Hey, Britt.” Jif shifted her weight. “I... I wanted to say...” Behind Britt, she caught a flash of movement. “Wait, is that Leticia?”
Britt crossed her arms. “I’m surprised you remember her name.”
“Umm, okay, ouch.” Jif stepped back. “I’ll come back later.”
Britt dropped her arms. “Never mind. Do you want to come in?”
Jif shook her head, then took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “You were right. I am a snob, and I don’t like sharing.
I’m jealous of you and Garrett, and I’m working on it, because it isn’t actually about you two, it’s about me.
” Her cheeks flared with heat, and her stomach turned over.
Admitting her worst thoughts to Britt freed her in some ways, but the weight of her friend’s judgment bore down, almost worse than her original guilt.
She turned to go, but Britt held out a hand.
“Wait. You should stay.”
“Really?” A swoop of hope fluttered in her chest.
“Yeah. You could meet Leticia, too. Well, meet her again. She’s pretty cool.”
“I thought I could help you grade.”
Britt pressed a dramatic hand to her chest. “Are you feeling well? You hate grading.” She leaned forward and held her palm to Jif’s forehead.
Jif grinned. “I really do, yeah, but I owe you. I didn’t mean to be a jerk.”
Britt’s eyes narrowed for a moment, but then her expression cleared, and she waved Jif in.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Her friend shook her head. “You’re not usually... Never mind. Come in and meet Leticia.”
Jif shook the other woman’s hand, then cleared her throat.
What were you supposed to say to someone you’d already blown off?
Worse, what if Britt had told her what Jif had said?
Unaccustomed nerves fluttered in Jif’s belly, but she swallowed.
Miles had been right about talking to Britt, and she trusted her friend. Maybe it would be okay.
“Hi. We met before, but I wasn’t really paying attention... Anyway, nice to meet you. Again.”
She waited while the other woman blatantly sized her up.
Leticia had dark skin and teeth as white as Jif’s, if not whiter. She’d twisted her long hair, divided into dozens of microbraids, into a thick bun on the crown of her head, emphasizing her bare shoulders, sculpted arms, long neck, and high cheekbones.
Even as familiar as astonishing beauty had become to Jif, spending all her time with superior specimens of magnificent males—and the women they surrounded themselves with—Leticia stood out.
Jif’s expression wavered as the silence continued, Leticia’s penetrating gaze taking her measure.
“Don’t worry about it,” she finally said. “You were a little busy.”
Jif wilted at the tacit forgiveness, but if she’d been snobbish to Britt, she’d been snobbish about Leticia.
“Really, I’m sorry. I won’t...” Jif stopped herself. “I’m working on it.”
Leticia hummed, not offering forgiveness, per se, but a second chance.
Jif took a shuddering breath. Her hands shook, and she stuffed them into the pockets of her jacket.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Britt offered. “We can grab an early dinner before Leticia’s shift, and you can help me decide between smoky or shimmery eye for my date Friday. Then, we can talk about hair.”
Jif grinned. Hair and makeup she could do.
Much better than introspective vulnerability, even if it turned out Miles had been right again.
Incredibly, talking hadn’t made things worse.
Admitting her shortcomings hadn’t led to Britt’s judgment.
If anything, her friend appreciated the apology, at least enough to smooth the way forward with Leticia.
Jif didn’t quite know how to respond to such grace. She certainly wouldn’t have been as quick to offer it.
Maybe she should be.
By the time they’d made it to the bar, Jif had pulled herself out of her own head, and though their introduction had been a bit awkward, after their first round, Jif hoped Leticia had put it behind them. Grateful, she took another sip from the tiny, red straw until it gurgled, nothing but ice left.
“He didn’t!”
Leticia laughed. “He said I’d already discovered him hiding behind the bar; he couldn’t really humiliate himself anymore.”
“Garrett’s done the dunk-tank thing, too. He said the worst part is how cold the water is.”
“Can confirm.” Leticia winked, and all three women dissolved into laughter. “Don’t let Garrett in a dunk tank on Friday, or you might end up disappointed.”
Jif cackled.
Leticia didn’t mind a little bit of innuendo with her sharp humor. Or a lot bit, as the case may be. Where had she been during Jif’s ogling players in their skin-tight pants phase? They’d have gotten along like a house on fire.
She froze, the phrase taking on a new meaning.
Why would anyone say such a thing? Houses and fires got along, sure, but in the worst possible way. The danger, the devastation left behind...
“Hey, you okay?” Britt nudged her with a shoulder.
“Yeah, of course. Lost in my head, I guess.”
The waiter came by, and they requested refills, but once he left again, Britt returned to their conversation.
“You’ve been lost a lot lately. You sure you’re alright?” Britt turned to Leticia. “Jif teaches at Meadowlark Elementary, the school with the power failure a few weeks ago.”
The power failure. Such innocuous words for something that could have been so much worse. Wholly incapable of encompassing the emotional horror, whether it had been an accident or a deliberate attempt to evacuate the school, or force it into lockdown. Or...
Leticia interrupted Jif’s spiraling thoughts. “I’m so sorry. It sounded awful. Did anyone get hurt?”
Jif shook her head, forcing her mind back to the present. “Fortunately, no. Not physically, anyway. We’re all still a little shaken.”
Her hands trembled, and she twined them together under the table.
“Is the therapy dog still coming?” Britt asked. “Nix, right? And Miles?”
“Yeah.” Jif found a stray white hair embedded in the fabric stretched over her thighs and picked it free. She twirled it between her finger and thumb, a minute piece of Nix even when he couldn’t be present. Her shoulders uncurled, and her lungs loosened. “Actually, I uh, asked him to coffee.”
The waiter brought their new drinks, and Jif buried her nose in her glass, taking a long sip and kicking herself for saying anything. Now, they’d ask, and she’d have to admit he’d turned her down flat. No, not flat, she reminded herself. Maybe another day.
The silence went on long enough she risked a glance, then blinked at Britt’s wide-open mouth. Leticia’s eyes darted between them, clearly confused.
“What?”
Britt twitched, shaking her head. “As I live and breathe. Jif Pritchard going on a date with someone who doesn’t play football? I’m not sure I believe that.”
Jif frowned. “We’ll see. We didn’t set any firm plans.”
“Still.” Britt turned to Leticia. “This girl hasn’t dated anyone not on the Raptors in three years. Ever since she turned twenty-one, her brother didn’t have an excuse to keep her out of the bar anymore.”
Leticia arched a perfectly sculpted brow at Jif, who sank in her seat. Yeah, in those words, she sounded as bad as any of the others she’d been all too quick to call shallow and short-term. “I need another drink.”
“You haven’t finished this one yet.”
“Call it a hunch.”
Leticia’s sultry laughter caught her off-guard. “You are something. I’m not sure what, yet, but when I figure it out, I’ll let you know.” She clinked her glass against Jif’s, then waved to the waiter.
Jif huffed. She sure hoped Leticia decided Jif could be a friend.
She could probably use a few more of those, especially if Miles wasn’t interested in filling the role.