Chapter 22 Rosie #2
It doesn’t matter, though, I remind myself.
This is fun. This is just friends. Friends don’t care about friends’ sexual or dating history, not really.
“So… are you sure you want to go there? Maybe I should, if there’s bad blood between you both,” I offer, trying to change the subject. “I could go and try to butter her up.”
He shakes his head. “That would be a bad idea.”
“What? Why?”
“She, uh… I don’t think she likes you.” He cringes at me, and I blink back at him.
“I’m sorry?”
He shrugs. “She doesn’t like you.”
“But I’m… I’m… I’m delightful.” A small smile tips on Jack’s lips.
“Well, she disagrees.”
“Well, she’s an idiot,” I say. Jack’s smile turns entertained, and he lets out a small laugh like he can’t fight it back before wrapping an arm around my waist and tugging me into him.
“Yeah, she is. But she’s also…” He pauses, contemplating how to say his next words before proceeding.
“She came in a few days ago. Asking if I wanted to get coffee with her. See if we could… work things out. Try again.” I lift an eyebrow taking him in skeptically, my stomach in knots at the thought of Jeanette, gorgeous Jeanette with her lustrous long hair that I could only manage with a tonic if I remembered to put it on every single night (unlikely), with her curves and her somehow flat-as-a-board stomach that I couldn’t have if I even wanted to because I will never stop eating sweet treats on the regular, and her sex kitten voice that even I think is hot, striding into the Gaming Den with reconciliation on her mind.
“And?” I ask.
“And,” he says, using a hand to smooth some of my hair back.
He does that a lot, pushing hair behind my ear or my shoulder, like he’s worried it’s in my face, worried it’s bothering me.
I used to wear it back when I was working to avoid just that, but I’ve found lately I’m letting it go more and more.
“Before she got an answer, a small redheaded witch rushed through the doors and attacked me because she guessed the ending of her book correctly.”
I blink, trying to remember the day. I remember the book because I’d been telling him about it a few days earlier.
It was the mystery and suspense romance I’d been reading after his event.
When I finished the book on a slow day at the shop, I realized I’d been right and instantly needed to tell Jack about it.
I flipped my sign to closed and nearly sprinted across the way to tell him.
When I work through the memory a bit, I do remember him talking to…
someone, but I was so excited that I couldn’t focus on anything other than telling him.
And then his arm was around my waist, and he was tugging me into his side and pressing a kiss to my hair, giving me a soft, good job, babe, so I was a bit distracted.
But apparently, he was standing there with Jeanette. And she was asking him about their friends with benefits situation, only for me to flaunt my own in her face.
Oh, god, that was so uncool of me. But also, a small, very petty part of me giggles and steeples her fingers maniacally. I push her aside and put on my logical thinking hat.
“So what, you’re going to go in and flirt with her and sneak a peek at her appointment book?”
“Pretty much.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal, but I’m skeptical. This is Jack we’re dealing with, after all. “Wanna go now?”
I stare at him for another beat before shrugging reluctantly. “Sure.”
He stares at me again, then smiles wide before pulling my face into his, kissing me.
“Hey, Jeanette,” he says as he walks into the barber shop, well over an hour later, after we went to his place so he could change his shirt and got…
distracted on the couch. I stare at my phone with rapt attention.
I spelled both of our phones, so his is recording their interaction and displaying it on mine, but his screen looks totally normal.
I can also tap on mine to see different angles of the shop.
That way, I can watch without being there and screenshot the appointment book when she hopefully shows it to him.
I said it was because I wanted to make it easier to see the datebook so I could take note of what we needed, and he could stay focused and play the game.
But now, I’m not sure why I insisted on it.
Partly, I think, because I wanted to watch Jack turn on his apparent inner flirt, but a part of me, the jealous part that has been far too loud and possessive as of late, insisted as a form of self-torture.
“Hey there, Jack. Didn’t expect to see you here,” Jeanette’s voice perks up when she notices him walk in, and my jaw goes tight.
I’m sitting across the street on a bench, and I can kind of see them moving through the big glass windows, but not much.
On my screen, I watch Jeanette put her elbows on the counter and lean forward.
From this angle, I can’t see it, but I just know her healthy cleavage is spilling out over the low top she’s wearing.
I tap on the screen to get a different angle, to watch Jack instead.