Chapter 15 Jon
JON
“And these are marble countertops all around. The builder, Mr. Montez, takes pride in high-end details and finishes,” Meredith, the realtor, says. Her botoxed face is stuck in a permanent scowling smile.
“I love how open and fresh it feels here,” Nicolette says as she takes in the open floor plan in the new high-rise condominium.
This is the fourth unit we’ve looked at.
They’re all similar in style and finishings.
Nicolette keeps insisting on having options, and holding out for a better unit.
This is our second weekend in a row touring this building and I feel myself on the brink of an anxiety attack every time my bare feet—because no shoes are allowed– tap against the freshly finished hardwood floors.
“And it’s so modern. Young. Other places we’ve toured have an older, dated feel,” Nicolette adds.
She’s referring to an apartment in the building I currently live in.
“Do you do a lot of cooking?” Meredith asks, already bored with showing us units.
Or, maybe I’m projecting my boredom onto her.
She’s already asked this type of question to Nicolette in the previous units.
What type of cooking do you enjoy doing?
Do you prefer to stay in and cook or go out to eat?
I don’t know why this matters so much? A kitchen’s a kitchen, right?
Nicolette opens and closes the overhead cabinets, inspecting for some flaw that isn’t there.
I don’t know Cruz Montez personally, but his reputation is one of perfection.
He designs the most beautiful buildings and homes in Paramount.
If Nicolette is looking for any imperfections, she won’t find them here.
“Not as much as I’d like. I’m still working full-time as a labor and delivery nurse,” she answers, sounding almost annoyed.
When we first met, she talked about her job with such passion and enthusiasm. It’s what attracted me to her—that she cared about helping new mothers and their babies. L she saw how normal and good-natured Margeaux is, how sweet and friendly she was with Sammy.
The elevator dings and the doors open. “Have a good day, ladies,” I mumble, storming out of the new building.
Nicolette always compliments me on how well-mannered I am.
I’m so different from other men who play games.
If only Nicolette knew what I did with Margeaux.
That I still think about her. I don’t want to hurt Nicolette, but the more time we spend together, the less of a spark I feel for her.
I pause at the corner, realizing that this is the first time I’ve contemplated ending my relationship with Nicolette. Everything in my life was going perfectly fine until I met Margeaux. I just need to get my mind back on what matters most to me. On who matters most to me.
I round the corner, grateful the hospital is a short walk from this condominium, only to bump into someone, smashing their cup of still-hot coffee between us.
“Ah! Shit!”
“Fuck! Fuck! Look where you’re going, asshole!”
Still looking down at my coffee-stained shirt and pants, and making sure the hot liquid doesn’t scold me, I snap back at the rude woman, “Maybe if you weren’t storming around street corners with extra hot coffee, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“J-Jon?” Her voice suddenly registers in my ears and the heat from the coffee is nothing in comparison to the warmth that floods my chest…and my dick.
Paralyzed, unable to speak, I let my eyes drink her in.
Her tall frame, which is highlighted with her laced up, black combat boots.
Her tight, black jeans fit her shapely, muscular legs so perfectly, and her white tank top shows off the lacy top of her deep purple bra.
Her tattooed arms are on full display. The small stud pierced above her upper lip is like a bullseye.
Her dark hair is pulled over one shoulder, showing me the curve of her neck, and the small beads of sweat dotting around her collarbone.
“Done undressing me with your eyes, Doc?”
“What?! No!” I scramble in place, trying to right myself and fixate my eyes anywhere but on her. A crack in the sidewalk. The apple tree right next to us. “I wasn’t.”
“Mmhm. I need a cigarette for how hard you just eye-fucked me,” she teases, releasing a light chuckle at my expense.
I roll my eyes, and silently curse the universe for over-complicating my life.