When she gets here, she knocks on the front door, which is kind of adorable. The Ex used to just barge her way into wherever she wanted. My house, my RV, my hotel room. She had no boundaries. I let her inside and pour us each a soda while I tell her about the pizza that’ll be here in twenty five minutes. “I also ordered cheese bread but I’m in a pretty horrible mood so I might eat it all.”
She doesn’t ask why I’m in a horrible mood. I kind of wish she would, although I don’t want to talk about it. I guess I just want her towantto know about me. Anyhow, we get our food and we watch some movies and I try like hell to stop myself from looking over at her. As much as I know I should stay away from this beautiful girl, the thought of her going home at the end of the night makes me feel lonelier than when I was in jail.
Bayleigh leans forward on the couch. I glance over at her, and she seems like she wants to say something. We’ve been talking this whole time, but not about anything important. Her lips are flattened, like what she wants to say is very important.
“Do you have a girlfriend back at home?” she says finally.
“Nah,” I say, looking at my hands. “Not anymore at least.”
“Girlfriends are overrated anyhow,” she says with a cute little shrug.
“So you don’t have a girlfriend either?” I tease her.
“Oh shut up,” she says, but her cheeks redden. She takes another slice of pizza and busies herself by staring at it. “So did you come here by yourself? Why didn’t you bring friends or something?”
“I don’t have any friends I could spend a summer with,” I tell her and I realize it’s pretty damn true. My best friend Park is too busy and I don’t have anyone else. “They would drive me insane after a week.” I want to smile, but now I’m thinking about the reason I’m here and I just can’t. “Plus, I deserve to spend a summer alone.”
“Why would anyone deserve isolation?” she asks, her eyebrows pulling together in the center. “That’s harsh.”
“I’m gonna need a drink if I’m going to tell you this sory.” I stand up and take my empty soda glass into the kitchen. Bayleigh follows me, and when I pour some whiskey into my Coke, she puts her glass next to mine.
“Me too,” she says.
I narrow my eyes. “You’re too young to drink.”
“So are you.” She straightens her shoulders.
“So.”
She makes this little puppy face. “One shot?”
I sigh, and pour a shot into her soda. I’m not thrilled at being a bad influence on this girl, but I can’t say no to those eyes and that little puppy face she just pulled on me. Totally not fair.
Back in the living room, Bayleigh sits next to me, downing her drink faster than she should. I get the feeling she’s not like the girls back home who have been drinking themselves into unconsciousness since they were twelve.
I put on another movie and enjoy the closeness of someone so sweet and innocent sitting next to me. There’s a pretty good chance she won’t steal my wallet and order shit off the internet while I’m not looking. The Ex did that shit. Not this girl.
She sighs and rests her head on my shoulder. My whole body freezes and then floods with a warmth that is not at all what I should be feeling right now. I want to lay my head on top of hers. I want to wrap an arm around her shoulder, or better yet, pull her into my lap. I want to see if those glossy lips of hers taste as good as I’m imagining.
She sighs softly. “This night is exactly what I needed,” she whispers.
I reach over and grab her knee and squeeze it gently. “Me too.”
Chapter 8
This is really fucking bad.
For the last few months, when I wake up all I’m thinking about is my career and how to get it back on track. This morning? I woke up thinking about her. That is not okay.Why, Jace? Why are you such an idiot?
Just to take my mind off her, I go for a jog at the crack of dawn. I don’t allow myself to look over at her grandparent’s house as I jog by; I just stare at the road in front of me and pretend her house doesn’t exist. I jog for probably two or three miles before I realize my little escape plan isn’t going to work. Jogging doesn’t require my mind, just my body. While my legs are moving, my brain is free to think about whatever it wants.
So I turn around and go back home and look around for something to busy my mind instead. I shower quickly because in the shower all I think about is her. Then I get to work unpacking my clothes and organizing my room to make it a little neater and not so disorganized. I load up my iPod with some educational podcasts and then blast the speakers so I can hear it all around the house. Educational podcasts are the perfect thing to think about, right? There are no girls involved in learning about what physicists think causes dark matter.
I find a duster in the laundry room and I go around the whole house, dusting off the years of neglect. I’m not exactly Mr. Chores or anything, so I have to figure out how to do all of this shit. I grab a vacuum and get the floors and then I use the hose attachment thingy to dust off the ceiling fan blades. I’m pretty proud of myself for getting the house clean, but it hasn’t taken my mind off of her. She’s too pretty to forget about.
Once the house is clean, I dive onto the couch and try to watch some TV, figuring I might be able to find a show interesting enough to take my mind off her. And then I see her DVDs on the TV stand. My heart lights up because I finally have an excuse to see her.
I give myself a once-over in the bathroom mirror, making sure I don’t have food in my teeth or anything, and then I grab her DVDs and rush over to her house. Maybe she’ll want to hang out and watch more movies with me. Maybe I’ll invite her to dinner or something.
