“You’ve never lived alone?” I ask, rounding the couch and heading toward the kitchen. I can’t help but ask. I know Jack is at least ten years older than me, putting him in his mid-thirties. Having heard from Luke that he went to the fire academy straight from college, I can’t help but wonder why he’s never lived alone.
Probably a significant other or something.
The thought is silly and comes out of nowhere, but I can’t fight the prick of jealousy—as misplaced as it is—that I feel.
Jack shakes his head as I unzip my diaper bag, pulling out a portable play mat and a few toys and books I brought to keep Evee entertained. “I lived at my mom’s when I was going through the fire academy and all my other training, and then I moved in with a friend of mine when we both started working at the station.”
“Friend?” I try to ask casually, not wanting to soundtoointerested.
“Yeah, my friend Bennett. We went through the fire academy together and then got jobs at the same station, so we shared an apartment until he—” He pauses, like the word that comes next can’t physically come out.
I know the story of Bennett and how he died, and I instantly feel stupid for asking in the first place. I shouldn’t have pried, especially now that I made Jack talk about something when he doesn't seem ready to.
He clears his throat, letting the sentence stay open-ended. “Do you want to put that in the living room?” He nods to theplaymat and toys in my hands, and I take the hint, letting him change the subject.
Guilt washes over me.
“Oh, sure. That works,” I manage to say.
We walk in silence over to the living room, and I lay out Evee’s playmat on the carpet.
“Sorry,” he says after a moment. “I’m still getting used to talking about him so casually.” I bend to set out some toys as Jack sets Evee down.
Sitting next to her, Evee starts grabbing at her toys, and the need to apologize overwhelms me. “No, I’m sor?—”
“That’s the third time tonight.” Jack sits on the other side of the playmat.
Third time?
I don’t know what he’s talking about.
When I don’t say anything, he must read the confusion on my face, so he clarifies, “That’s the third time you’ve apologized for something you didn’t need to apologize for tonight, and you’ve been here for five minutes.” His tone is straight-forward but not unkind. “I know you said you’re used to apologizing even when you don’t have to, but you don’t have to do that with me.” He settles on the floor, laying on his side, holding himself up with an elbow as he puts one of Evee’s toys in front of her, and she grabs it instantly.
Part of me wants to say “okay” and move on, but there’s another part of me that wants to explain myself—explain why I feel the need to apologize.
Explain why I even asked about his friend to begin with.
But that opens a whole Pandora’s box of not only the weird feeling of jealousy that I don’t even fully understand, but my past too.
My past that I’m not sure I’m ready to share.
“How come you’re only here to sleep?” I ask instead, getting our initial conversation back on track. I criss-cross my legs in front of me, watching as he keeps putting toys in front of Evee for her to grab them from him and play with for a few seconds before repeating the process.
Jack shrugs. “My shifts run for 24 hours, and between work, the gym, and spending time with my mom, I haven’t been home much.”
“Does your mom live close?” I ask, a tug of longing pulls at me, thoughts of my own parents—or lack thereof—coming to mind.
“She’s not too far from here. I’ve been trying to see her as much as I can since I was gone for so long.”
“You two are close?”
“Very.” He smiles when he says it, looking up at me. “I told you she was a single mom, right?” I nod, and he continues. “My dad took off when she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, so it was just my mom, Emerson, and me since I was ten.”
I open my mouth to say something, but he stops me. “And before you say ‘sorry’, don’t. He was a dick, and we were much better without him. And, my mom has been in remission for years.”
I roll my lips to hide my smile—Ava’s comment about his brutal honesty and no time for saying things he doesn’t mean rings truer and truer the more we talk.
“What about you?” he asks.
