Chapter Twenty-Five
Twenty-Five
Abby
I find myself smiling a lot more in the week following Jack’s and my “date.” Sure, it was a little outside the ordinary, but there’s something about the day we spent that has had me feeling lighter than I have in a long time.
I hadn’t planned beforehand to seduce him right there in the open, in the middle of the woods, truthfully—not that I regret it in the slightest—but it’s what came before and after that really made it memorable.
It was the way his face lit up when he told me about his special spot, the jokes he told while hand-feeding me bits of the snacks he packed of his own volition, the way he insisted on holding my hand the entire way there and back.
Even with me derailing it a bit with sex, which I don’t think Jack would complain about, it’s probably the best date I’ve ever had, torturous hiking and all.
I’ve smiled at more customers on shift today at the coffee shop than I normally would, and I think even my coworkers are starting to notice, if the way they keep giving me strange glances is any indication.
I haven’t exactly endeared myself to any of them since I started here; it’s not something I’m particularly good at, the whole making friends business.
But more than once today I have offered up thank-yous over trivial things and even asked Jayla about her weekend—something I don’t think I’ve done once since I got the job.
They probably all think I’ve been bodysnatched at this point, but I can’t find it in me to care.
If you’d told me weeks ago that I would be this gooey inside over Jack Baker, I would have laughed in your face. As it is now…it seems that the more time I spend with my flirty hockey player, the more sides I see to him that have me wondering how I ever thought I didn’t like him in the first place.
Jesus, is this what it’s like to be twitterpated?
It’s a little embarrassing, and a lot too much for me to fathom, but I can’t seem to turn it off.
Not when most of my evenings are filled with laughter and kisses and often even more, my mornings boasting little notes left behind to have a good day or, on the occasion we’re both there, more pancakes.
The guy really likes making pancakes. Not that I’m complaining.
I haven’t felt so spoiled in all my life.
Which, in hindsight, should have been a good indicator that bad news was on the way.
My phone rings halfway through my shift, only minutes before Jack is supposed to meet me here for my break after he gets some practice in at the nearby rink—and even though it’s not a dreaded phone call from my father, it’s still bad news.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Thompson?”
“This is she.”
“This is Ginger, the office manager here at your apartment building.”
My gut tightens at her already-apologetic tone, knowing that she can’t be calling me with glad tidings.
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry to have to bring more bad news,” she says, “but we’ve hit more delays in the repairs to your unit and the other units affected by the flooding.”
“Oh no.”
“We’re still estimating the full extent of the damage, but it’s looking like it will put us back another month for the repairs, at the very least.”
“Shit,” I say, immediately apologizing after it slips out of my mouth. “Sorry, I just—that sucks.”
“I’m so sorry,” she tells me. “We will of course continue to comp the rent for the months you are unable to stay, but I do hope that you have other arrangements in the meantime.”
I wince as I consider my current living arrangement, knowing that I can’t just continue to mooch off of Jack’s kindness forever.
I know that we didn’t exactly set a time limit on his offer when he gave it, but surely he didn’t expect me to just take up his spare bedroom for some indefinite amount of time.
And considering what we’ve been doing…Well. I’d hate for him to feel obligated.
“I can figure something out,” I tell her, knowing Jack and I will have to have a conversation and already feeling awkward about it. “No worries.”
Except I have all the worries.
“Excellent,” she says with a relieved sigh. “I will keep you updated on our progress. Hopefully we can get this resolved sooner rather than later.”
I can’t agree more, but I just thank her for calling instead.
I hear a ding over the door across the room just as I’m disconnecting, looking up to see a familiar, towering figure ducking inside with a ball cap pulled low over his eyes and a mask over his mouth.
The grin that splits my lips is immediate, and even that is a surprise, considering how different of a reaction to Jack it is than it would have been only a few short weeks ago.
He gives me a little wiggle of his fingers in a barely-there wave, pointing then to the empty table against the wall as he signals that he’ll wait for me there. I nod back at him as I stow my phone, finding my manager to tell her that I’m taking my break.
Jack is texting when I take the seat opposite him, but even under the mask, I can see the way his lips curl in a smile when he notices me. “Hey, lover.”
“Shut up,” I grouse, trying to bite back my smile. “How was practice?”
“Nothing too extensive,” he tells me. “I mostly just go to get more time on the ice, with the way Coach keeps cutting my time at the arena.”
“And how does your arm feel?”
He yanks down his mask before he twists his forearm this way and that, shrugging one shoulder. “It’s stiff, but manageable.”
“That’s good, I guess.”
“How has work been?”
I stick out my tongue. “Boring, as usual.”
“Until I got here, right?”
I roll my eyes. “Someone is full of themselves.”
“I can think of someone I’d much rather be full of me.”
I make a face. “Are you trying to get me to kick you under the table?”
“Pretend you don’t like it all you want, Abby,” he laughs. “I won’t tell.”
I will never admit that I’m starting to enjoy his very stupid jokes, because that will just make his head bigger than it already is.
“Oh, hey,” he says, changing the subject. “I was going to tell you that Bea invited us over to dinner this weekend.”
“Your aunt?”
He nods. “She knows you’re staying with me, so you got an invite by extension.”
“Oh.” I wrinkle my nose. “I don’t want to impose.”
“She will literally have my balls if I don’t bring you,” he tells me. “You love my balls. You don’t want anything to happen to them, right?”
“I don’t have any particular feelings about your balls, actually.”
“Shh.” He makes a serious face. “Don’t let them hear that. You’ll hurt their feelings.”
“Utterly ridiculous,” I mutter.
“Seriously,” he says. “We’re roomies. It’s not a big deal. She loves feeding people.”
My conversation with the office manager at the apartment comes back to me then, and my lips turn down in a frown as I think about another month at least being added to the time where I have nowhere else to go.
Jack notices the change in my demeanor. “What is it?”
“Hm?” I glance up at him, finding concern etched in his features. “Oh, it’s nothing serious, I just…got some bad news before you came.”
He leans in, his brow furrowing. “Was it your dad?”
“No, no.” I wave my hand back and forth in front of my face. “Nothing like that. It was about my apartment.”
“Oh.” Jack leans back in his chair, looking relieved. “What’s wrong?”
“They found more damage,” I tell him. “It could be another month before they have everything repaired.”
“Oh.” He looks unperturbed by this. “Well it’s not like my spare bedroom is going anywhere.”
My lips twist as my eyes avert and I feel uncertainty flush through me. “Sure, but…I mean…We didn’t exactly say how long I would be staying when I moved in. I’m sure you didn’t mean to have me for so long.”
“What,” he snorts, “do you think I’d just kick you out?”
“Well, no, but—”
“In case you haven’t noticed,” he says, leaning in closer, “I kind of like having you there.”
I feel my cheeks flush, a small smile forming at my mouth. “I mean, I get that, but I just…It has me thinking, you know?”
“About?”
“About what all this means.”
“This being…?”
I point my finger back and forth between us. “Me and you.”
“Oh.”
I nod. “Yeah. Oh.”
“Are you asking what we are?”
“I’m not…not asking that,” I say nervously, feeling my stomach clench with uncertainty.
It’s not a conversation I planned to have today, but with how good things have been going, I can’t pretend it hasn’t been on my mind.
I find myself wondering more and more if this thing between us is just something fun and convenient for Jack, or if there might be more to it. If I want there to be more to it.
Jack crosses his arms over his chest, eyeing me. “What do you want it to be?”
“What?” I rear back, blinking in surprise. “You’re asking me?”
“Well, yeah,” he says. “You kind of have all the power here, Abby.”
“How do you figure?”
“Because I already know what I want,” he informs me, his tone serious. “It’s just a matter of what you want.”
My heart rate ratchets up higher, pounding away beneath my ribs. “And what do you want?”
“I’d have already put a lock on your door to force you to sleep in my bed every night if I could,” he says nonchalantly.
My mouth falls open. “You don’t mean that.”
“Of course I do,” he says without any hint of trepidation. “In case you haven’t noticed…I’m kind of crazy about you.”
“But it’s only been a few weeks,” I argue feebly.
He shrugs again. “I know what I want.”
“And you’re ready to…what? Tell people? Tell Ian?”
Jack gives me a shit-eating grin then. “Oh, I would love to tell Ian.”
“Of course you would,” I grumble. “I forgot about your ongoing need for revenge.”
“Hey.” His expression sobers. “It’s a lot more than that.
I love spending time with you. I love everything we do together.
I love seeing you in the mornings and before bed.
I love hearing about your day. I love going on weird hiking sex dates with you.
I want to do more of all of those things.
So, yeah. I’m perfectly happy telling everyone exactly that. ”
I feel floored by his confession, having no idea that he felt that way, and despite the pounding of my own heart, I feel a smirk painting my lips. “Maybe not the hiking sex date part.”
“Says you,” he scoffs.
I twist my fingers in my lap, feeling a fluttering sensation spreading up through my belly and spilling into my chest. “You…you really want all that?”
“I want you, Abby,” he says seriously. “I have since the first time you kissed me. I don’t see that changing anytime soon.”
“But I can’t just…I can’t just move in with you,” I argue.
“I mean, you’re already there,” he says. “Can we even call it moving in with me if you’re already living with me?”
“It’s a big difference, and you know it.”
“So we don’t call it that,” he says with a shrug. “We just say that you’re welcome to stay with me as long as you need to, and that as long as you’re there, we continue to have hiking sex dates and BFF nachos and all the other things we’ve been doing.”
“And you would really want to…tell people about it?”
“You’re asking me if I would want to make it official?”
I nod, my mouth feeling dry.
Jack takes my hand across the table, his thumb rubbing over the back of my knuckles as his lips curl in a soft smile. “I told you, Abby. I like you. I don’t give a flying fuck who knows it.”
I like you.
It’s almost too ludicrous to consider—the fact that I’m sitting in the same place I was over a month ago, feeling so differently about the man sitting across from me now than I did then that it might as well be night and day.
Then, I could barely stand to be in the same room with him.
Now…now I look for him whenever I enter one.
“I don’t know if I’m quite ready to tell Ian,” I admit. “Not just yet.”
“As long as I get to be the one who eventually does,” he says with a wicked smile.
I roll my eyes again. “You’re kind of a shit.”
“This is not news, I’m afraid.”
“And you really want me to come to dinner at your aunt’s?”
“I’d rather you came as my girlfriend,” he tells me, “but secret lover roommate works too.”
I feel a swelling sensation in my chest at the word. Girlfriend. I can’t remember the last time I’ve ever been that to anyone. Have I ever, really? Am I really in this twisted version of reality where the first time someone called me that, it would be Jack fucking Baker?
“Secret lover roommate works,” I say quietly, adding even more softly, “for now.”
Jack beams at me. “I can work with that.”
My hand feels positively hot from where he’s still holding it, and I clear my throat as I check the clock on the wall opposite us, noticing that my break is almost up.
“I have to get back to work,” I tell him.
Jack pulls his hand away from mine, and I notice how immediately I miss the warmth of it.
“I’m supposed to meet Ian for lunch, anyway,” he says. “Bit of a bummer I won’t have good news for him.”
“You know there’s a good chance he’s going to yell at you when you do eventually tell him, right?”
“Please.” Jack blows a raspberry. “He doesn’t have a leg to stand on. Not when he’s been plowing my sister all this time. I think of it as poetic justice.”
I snort as I stand from the table, noticing he does the same thing. “Oh, is that what I am?”
“And then some,” he teases, pressing a kiss to my cheek before he pulls his mask back up. “I’ll see you at home?”
Home.
It’s strange; it’s been a long time since anything has felt like it fit that word for me, and yet Jack’s apartment has felt more like home than anywhere else I’ve been since I was a teenager. I’m almost afraid to ponder what that means.
I nod back at him, my throat feeling a little tight. “Yeah, I’ll see you at home.”
I can tell that he’s beaming at me under the mask, and I feel the force of it warm me from the inside out, even without properly being able to see it. It’s an effect only Jack seems to have.
He gives me a wave and quick goodbye before he leaves, and I find myself watching him go long after he’s disappeared through the door, still a little shell-shocked by the conversation we just had.
Abby, I like you. I don’t give a flying fuck who knows it.
The words all swirl around in my thoughts, leaving me a little light-headed and a lot out of sorts, and yet, when I move to go back to work, I feel my mouth turned up at the corners—that same smile I haven’t been able to shake fixed firmly into place.
Girlfriend, I think idly.
If I feel like this from being whatever we are in secret, how much better might I feel living it out in the open?
And why is there some part of me that desperately wants to find out?