Chapter 23 #2
Between restocking, he glances over at me. “You don’t look that excited about something that's supposed to be fun.”
“I am. But…” A small sound makes me glance nervously at the door.
His eyes flick from the door to me. “Want me to make sure that guy has gone?” he offers.
“Please!”
Rounding the counter, he heads for the front door. I follow him out, and we peer one way and then the other. There’s no sign of the man.
“Thanks. I should probably go finish getting ready for this date or I’ll be late,” I say, making no move to go anywhere, and not because I’m scared I’ll bump into the guy who followed me down the street.
He gives me a long, searching look before closing the door and leaning against the wall. I join him, crossing my arms and covering my boobs to avoid attracting more unwanted attention.
“You don’t want to go on this date, do you?” he asks.
I let out a sigh. “I’m scared.”
He frowns. “Of the guy? Did you push you into it?”
I smile at him. “No. He was—is—nice. My last relationship didn’t work out.”
That’s putting it mildly. It blew up so badly that it made the front page of the newspapers. And my parents disowned me.
There are first-date jitters, and then there’s whatever this thing is that has left me feeling sick and anxious since I first agreed to this date with Oscar.
He nods. “So you’re scared this one will go bad as well?”
“I put my trust in the wrong place, and I don’t want to make the same mistake.” I’ve just rebuilt my life, and I’m scared of making a decision that blows it up.
“What do your instincts say?”
“That he’s a nice guy and I can trust him. But that’s what my instincts said before. And they were wrong. I had…” I shoot him a rapid glance, unsure how much I want to tell him about my old life. He hasn’t pried or asked any questions, which makes it easier to open up. “I had three scent matches.”
His expression turns blank. “Ah.”
“You heard about me and what I did.”
“An omega rarely walks away from her scent matches, least of all three of them.”
I scuff the toe of my white sneaker against the ground. “You would if you had a year of being treated like you were shit they stepped in.”
He’s silent for a beat, and when I look at him, his expression is thoughtful. “Maybe you’re feeling hesitant because it’s too soon?”
I shrug. “Maybe. How long do you wait before moving on after someone breaks your heart?”
“I don’t think there’s a set time for getting over heartbreak, June.” He chews his lip, his forehead furrowed. “My mom says she doesn’t think she’ll ever love again. She was with my dad for over thirty years.”
“She’s not missing much,” I mutter bitterly, surprised by my anger.
I told myself I wouldn’t let what Callum, Torin, and Archer did to me make me bitter or harden my heart, but it did. Deep down, it’s still changing me in ways I wish it wouldn’t. I used to trust so easily. Now, I brace myself instinctively, expecting someone to hurt me.
I didn’t just lose faith in love; I lost my faith in the goodness of people.
“But my mom had the most incredible life with him,” Jack says when I move to leave. “She doesn’t think anyone would come close to what she lost.” He adds in a gentler tone, “It’s a little different from not trying again when you still have most of your life ahead of you, June.”
“Yeah, I know,” I say, biting my lip and leaning my back against the wall. “It’s hard not just to open up, but to want to, you know?”
He nods. “I get it. Where’s he taking you?”
“We’re going for tea in the coffee shop down the street,” I explain.
Oscar texted me the other day to find out where I wanted to meet. Brew Sixteen is close enough for me to walk to, yet far enough away that Oscar won’t know where I live since we’re meeting there at two.
Jack’s gaze dips to my frankly inappropriate coffee shop date outfit.
I aim a reluctant smile at him. “I know the dress is a bit much. Lucia wants him to see the dress and start planning a future dinner date.”
“What will she be planning if it turns into a dinner date?” he cocks his head, curious.
“Probably the birth of our first child,” I mutter, prompting a bark of laughter from him.
“What do you want?”
“To wear something I can run in, in case it goes wrong,” I say.
He laughs, but I’m actually being serious. It’s why I’m wearing sneakers instead of borrowing a pair of heels from Lucia.
His amusement fades. “Do you want my number?”
I scrunch my nose. “Why?”
“If things go wrong, call me, and I’ll come along and pretend to be your boyfriend and punch him in the face or something.”
I smile gratefully at him. “That’s sweet of you, but he’s kind of a big guy.”
He glances toward his shop. “I have a wrench or two hanging around.”
I laugh. Then I study him, not sure I want to ask him this. It’s too important not to, so I ask. “Are you doing this because you like me?”
He bumps his shoulder against mine. “I’m doing this because we’re friends and I think you’re a good person. Between losing my dad, looking out for my mom, and dealing with this shop, I have neither the time nor the mental capacity to want to be in a romantic relationship with anyone.”
“Okay then.”
His green eyes sparkle as he quips. “Shall I arm myself with a wrench, ready to charge down the street to save you?”
I laugh, though I can’t imagine Jack doing any such thing. He’d probably ask Oscar to leave me alone, and if he didn’t, he’d do the sensible thing and call the cops.
“You probably won’t need to arm yourself with anything,” I say with a smile. “Have you got your phone? I’ll give you my number, and you can call me. Then I’ll have your number. If this guy turns out to be a creep, you can come save me with a big wrench from your shop.”
After I’ve typed my number into his phone, I surprise him with a hug. “Thanks, Jack.”
He’s turned into one of the few bright spots in this new life I’ve built for myself.
“Anytime, June,” he says, closing his arms around me.
I hurry back to my apartment to let Lucia know her dress had the desired effect, and to finish getting ready for my date. Before I step into my building, a prickle of awareness warns me that someone is watching me. Twisting around, I scan both sides of the street.
Three kids kick a ball up and down the sidewalk; Simon, one of Gia’s sons, waves at me.
I grin and wave back. Feet away, a car idles, the dark-haired driver hanging out of the window as he flirts with a girl who lives in a building across the street.
Jack has returned to the shop. It’s a quiet, ordinary afternoon.
Quit being paranoid, June. No one is watching you.
Shaking off my unease, I push my apartment door open and step inside.