I’ve never done anything like this before, and maybe that was obvious to Jack. I’m used to sex being almost transactional—at least that’s how it was with Trevor—so I’m confused why we’re stopping when I haven’t even touched Jack.
“What? No.” Jack presses a kiss to my temple. “That was perfect.”
“What about you?” I try to ask, but Jack stops me.
“I promise. I’m fine, Rumi.”
“But—” I protest.
“I came in my pants.”
I slap a hand against my mouth. “What?” I say, but it comes out muffled behind my palm.
“I came in my pants,” he repeats, and it comes out so matter-of-factly, I still don’t think I’m hearing him right.
“Don’t you want to, I don’t know, change?” The question is stupid, even more so when I hear myself whisper it, but what else am I supposed to say tothat?
Not when the only thing going through my mind is how unbelievably good it feels to have made this man come without even touching him, a new confidence blooming that I’ve never had when it came to sex—just another way this man has healed a part of me without even trying.
Jack sighs. “Well, I wasn’t going to advertise to you and everyone else that I came in my pants watchingyoucome all over my hand, but now that it’s out in the open—” He moves the blanket off of him, scooting to the edge of the truck bed and rounding his truck.
Getting into the backseat, I can see his shadow moving for a minute before he steps out of the car and joins me again just before the end credits of the movie start.
“Glad I decided to keep my gym bag in my backseat today,” he says, sporting a mesh pair of black shorts rather than the cotton ones he had on before. Movement begins around us, reminding me that it was never just the two of us—no matter how much it felt like it.
People around us start hopping out of their trunks and truck beds as the lights surrounding the open field turn on.
“So?” I hear Ava say as she walks over, glancing at the tray with the untouched popcorn and sodas at the edge of the truck bed. I quickly make sure the blanket is still on top of me, not having grabbed my underwear yet.
“It was great,” I say, and it comes out a little too enthusiastically, almost like a squeak.
My best friend eyes me carefully before her eyes roam to Jack.
“Nice shorts,” she tells him before giving me a wink and walking back over to Anderson’s car.
CHAPTER 31
JACK
“She’s goingto love you, I promise.” I press a kiss to the top of Rumi’s head just before opening the front door to my mom’s house.
With Evee in my arms, Rumi is holding the vegan blueberry muffins Ava made for her to bring over, Rumi being too nervous to prepare anything this morning after I invited her to brunch with my mom last night when we grabbed dinner together—even when I told her there was no need to be.
My mom has called me at least a dozen times since I told her I wanted her to meet Rumi and Evee, and she offered to host us for brunch today. When I told her that Rumi was vegan, she immediately took it upon herself to convert all of her tried and true recipes into vegan ones.
“Does she know we’re bringing Evee?” she asks, her eyes darting from me to her daughter in my arms as she shifts her weight back and forth on her feet.
“Of course, and I brought over her stuff last night.” I wanted to make sure Rumi had nothing to worry about, so I brought over the high chair, play mat, and the Pack ’n Play that I bought for my house.
Rumi’s shoulders relax as she exhales. “I still can’t believe you got all that stuff for her.”
“And I’d do it again and again,” I say, gently bouncing Evee in my arms. She’s tired from her morning nap, so her head rests against my shoulder. She’s wearing a white onesie with blue and yellow flowers with blue shorts that match her mom’s baby blue sundress. Evee’s hair is finally growing in enough that Rumi can give her two little pig tails that she tied baby blue bows in—the sight going straight to my heart when I picked the girls up this morning, their outfits accentuating their matching eyes.
“And you said Emerson will be here?” Rumi asks, my sister and her growing closer over the last month working at Hey Honey’s together.
I nod. “She should be here.” Emerson texted me last night asking if Rumi had a certain coloring book and crayons that are meant to help Evee’s fine motor skills at this age, so I assume she’s still planning on coming.
Rumi sighs. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” she admits, but I think we both know why. Rumi doesn’t have the best track record with parents, and I don’t think she’s entirely sure how to handle them, rightfully so.
