“I’d never cross you.”
A baby cries in the background. “Gotta run. Later, mate.”
I glance over to find Rachel’s eyes wide and her mouth ajar. “Questions?”
“I don’t know where to begin.” She shakes her head. “I really hope that was your artist friend, and you aren’t supplying some dude with parts for a headless robot.”
“Yeah, Chance is the artist I told you about. You know when we went to my favorite burger joint the other night? I convinced the corporate office to collect their bottle caps as a recycling effort.”
It’s quiet a moment. I can feel her gaze on me. At the next break in traffic I turn to meet her stare. “What?”
“First, you’re besties with one of my favorite rock stars. Now, I find out you have an Australian artist friend. How could you keep this from me?”
Oh. Of course she’d be impressed by my famous connections. I don’t know why that fills me with disappointment but it does. Because I want all her interest on me.
“Chance.” The way she says his name causes irritation to prickle my spine. “Does he look like Thor? If he’s single, promise you’ll introduce us immediately.”
Fucker. An irrational desire to murder Chance for choosing this moment to call rips through me. “I’ll do no such thing.”
“What? Why?” Rachel laughs, and though I realize she’s probably joking, the thought of giving her any guy’s number incites a wave of rage. “I thought we were friends.”
Fucking friends. Jealously coils in my gut at the thought of being “just friends” with Rachel. Does she not see how much I want her? How I go out of my way to spend more time with her? How she’s reduced me to following her around like a dog in pursuit of a bone? I thought a romantic dinner near the ocean and a walk along the beach after would seal the deal. Goes to show how much I still need to learn about this woman.
I’m not giving up, but I better up my game. I have less than a week before Mark returns her car. A twinge of guilt hits me, knowing it’s ready for her now. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt a thing. But deep down that doesn’t ring true. I don’t think Rachel would appreciate my lie of omission, so I’ll have to be extra careful she never finds out.
27
Rachel
Living with Jude is surprisingly awesome. Not that I thought it’d be horrible when I agreed to his offer. It’s just, I imagined it’d be more awkward. Or I’d feel as if I was in his way, an inconvenience. Instead, he’s treated me better than an out-of-town guest. We fall into a routine, and each evening when he comes to pick me up from work, we have dinner together. Tonight we opt to stay in, order Thai, and stream the latest crime documentary everyone’s been raving about.
Honestly, it’s like we’re in a relationship but without the sex. Which sounds ideal, until you’re sitting across the couch from a hot as hell, kind, witty, cocky businessman with disheveled hair, turned on in spite of the deplorable images playing on screen, wondering why exactly you said you’d never sleep with him.
The closer we get to the weekend, the more I can’t stand the thought of going back to my apartment. It’s not because of my vile roommates, either. No, it’s that I can’t imagine going back to a day where I don’t spend time with Jude, or Walter. Despite my best efforts, I’ve become attached.
“Wow. That was—” Jude sits forward and clicks off the television.
Shit. I was busy daydreaming. I didn’t catch the end of the documentary, though it was pretty obvious who was guilty. “Right?”
“Crazy. Makes me think I’ve had a charmed life.” He shakes his head and then stands. “Also, I am never using a ride share app again.”
I stretch my arms overhead and yawn. “I’ve only had one bad experience, and really, until Iron Maiden died on the freeway, I’d rather drive myself anyway.”
“Not sure driving that old hunk of metal is any safer.”
“Hey! She’s a classic. And you will not compare her to a psychotic murderer.” I point at his smiling face. “Take it back.”
“She’s a classic, huh?” He shakes his head and chuckles. “I’m going to take Walter out.”
“Want me to come too?”
“No, I won’t be long. Besides, I’ve kept you up late enough on a work night.”
“Totally worth it.” The admission flies from my lips almost breathy. Jude stares. Oh, my God! Did I just use my sex voice? The air in the room seems thicker. Jude’s mouth suddenly becomes the most interesting thing and I can’t look away.
“Thai food!” I blurt louder than necessary. The tension pops, and I can breathe again, even if Jude observes me like some crazed animal inside a zoo cage. “It was really good. The food, and your company of course. Walter. Thank you.” Shut up. Shut up, please.
“Right. I’m just gonna . . .” He hooks a thumb over his shoulder and backs away.
Now would be the perfect time for the universe to swallow me whole. No luck. Instead, when Jude leaves I rush to the bedroom and shut myself in for the night. A self-induced time out for my inappropriate thoughts and spaztastic behavior.
I can’t sleep. Crazy as it is, Jude’s condo is too quiet. There’re no roommates coming in and out at all hours of the night. No thin walls and cheap windows to let in the sounds of sirens and LA nightlife.
Oh, and I can’t stop thinking about my temporary roomie. My thoughts are anything but platonic, bordering on obsessive. I keep picturing the different faces he makes. His open laugh when I make a joke. His softer smile when Walter does something cute. The wicked grin that causes my heart to thunder in
