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“That’s right. I do. I know a lot about you.”
I walked upstairs to the kitchen and turned the camera around. “I put these bags together for the kids.” I held up the little decorated cellophane sacks filled with treats from the dollar store. “I went a little wild,” I said, toying with the ribbon I’d tied around each. “Could barely close them.”
“I thought you were just watching the one kid.”
“I’mnannyingfor Finn, yes, but Liam invited his friends over with their kids, so I thought it would be nice?—”
“Liam’s the dad, right?”
“Yeah.” I situated the bags back in place, then propped up my cell phone to take the cupcakes out of the refrigerator.
“How much longer do you have to work tonight?”
I lifted a shoulder as I licked a bit of orange icing off my finger. “I’m not really working now. I’m just getting everything set for when the kids come back.”
“I don’t get why you’re doing so much.” His voice was edged with something familiar. Something I didn’t like.
“Because I want to.”
He clucked his tongue, and when I glanced over to my phone screen, he was lying on his bed, his one hand behind his head, highlighting his biceps.
I’d met Jordan at a party a friend of a friend was throwing. He’d been standing in the corner of the patio, chatting to a guy, with a beer bottle hanging loosely from his fingertips. It had been the middle of fall and cold enough to see our breath in the night air, but he’d only worn a plain gray T-shirt, jeans, and black boots. I’d noticed him, of course, with his olive skin, dark hair, and aloof air, but I didn’t think he’d noticed me. Especially since some girl was hanging all over him. She was slim and blond, and I was the exact opposite.
So, it’d surprised me when I’d turned later that night, heading for one of the coolers, and walked right into him.
“I’m so sorry,” I’d said, holding on to his forearm to balance myself.
“S’okay.” He’d smiled and pointed to the cooler. “Can I get you something?”
“White Claw, please.” When he’d offered me an amused shake of his head, his gaze sweeping over me, I had shrugged, joking, “White girl White Claw.”
“What flavor you like?”
“Surprise me.”
He had straightened with a can of raspberry in his hand and opened it before passing it to me, then he flicked the cap off a beer for himself.
“Aren’t you cold?” I’d asked, tugging at the scarf around my neck.
“Not really. I’m a snowboard instructor. Basically cold-blooded at this point.”
“I’m freezing just looking at you.”
He had gestured behind him then, to the fire pit. “Let’s get you warmed up.”
He’d looped his arm around my shoulders, and that had been it. Love at first White Claw.
We were hot and heavy for a while, but I had needed a break. I couldn’t stand his distrust or bouts of irrational anger toward me, telling me I was going out of my way to flirt with other guys. It wasn’t true, and I’d needed time apart. Last December, I’d headed back home to live with Taylor and sort things out.
But weeks later, I was back with Jordan, and he was back to accusing me of things I wasn’t doing.That night, we’d gotten into a fight after he’d ripped me away from his friend, whom I’d given a friendly hug to. Apparently, I was “pressing my tits up against him like some slut.”
I’d seen red, and we’d started yelling at each other. Then he’d knocked my hand out of the way as I’d tried to take my pills. A part of me had thought it was innocuous. While another part, one that sounded a lot like Taylor, told me it wasn’t a harmless accident. That it was on purpose and violent.
But how could he be so sweet and yet…not?
Now he asked, “Your boss gonna let you off so you can go out with me tomorrow?”
He said it in that half-joking, half-serious voice he always used when he didn’t want to let on to his true feelings.
