I placed my hand on his thigh, shook my head, and whispered, “I’m fine. I am just going to go to bed. You should go.”
He paused for a moment, gaze flicking over me with knit brows. “Uh—actually Tay, give me an hour. I’ll swing by when I’m done here.”
From there, Jude drove two miles under the speed limit and took the backroads the whole way home. He stopped at the gas station, grabbed crackers, ginger ale, and even a few plastic bags he'd stacked inside one another in case I puked, “again.” He rubbed a hand over my back every few miles, and asked me if I needed to pull over or if I needed something more substantial to eat.
Each minute was agonizing. Every second, a reminder that I'd wasted my evening on the wrong guy, and because I was too chicken shit, he would waste his with the wrong girl. But maybe that was how it was meant to be. This time my eyes welled with tears, for an entirely different reason.
4
Lover’s Orbit
Jude
The house was dead quiet when I slipped around the side, the last glow of a bonfire long gone even though embers still popped as I pushed open the gate. Crickets and frogs filled the silence, loud enough to cover the smaller sounds—like the window screen being eased out of place. I set it beside the house in the gravel.
Her window was already cracked open. Of course it was. Solace never listened to her dad about the air conditioning, but I wasn’t complaining. It was easier to slip inside the bay window rather than the one above her bed. Still, my chest burned at the thought of anyone else being able to slip so easily inside her room while she was fast asleep. Not only was Solace clumsy, she was forgetful and had no respect for her safety. Good thing I had tons of it.
I pushed the window open slowly, wincing at the soft groan. Hopefully Mr. Davis was fast asleep or this could be awkward.
“We gotta talk about your self-preservation, Sol,” I murmured. Something flew at my head and I caught it on instinct—a pillow—and blinked.
“Hey!” Her soft voice filled the dark.
I dropped it to the floor and looked up at her. “You didn’t even hear me remove the window screen.” I leanedon the sill, folding my arms, grinning despite myself. “Wanna go somewhere?” Although I wasn’t sure where I’d take her. Maybe to our favorite perch outside the observatory. I hated to admit it, but my stomach was cramped with nerves and my chest grew tighter with each passing minute.
The floodlight from the side yard cut across the room, leaving her face in shadow. She was half-asleep. Or pretending to be. She yanked the covers up as if it would somehow help. “Not really.”
“Isn’t everyone asleep?”
“Yes but—”
“Great. Grab a sweatshirt. It’s cold.”
Before she could argue, I retreated back into the dark. If I stayed there, she’d keep saying no. Sol was like that—she liked to dig her heels in and dare the world to move her. She was stubborn as hell, even if she’d often counted herself out before having the chance to experience anything.
It used to bother me when we were kids because I couldn’t convince her to do anything, but then I watched that same fortified heart balk at bullies, soldier through her mom’s cancer, and carry far more than I’d ever let her carry.
I waited by the hollyhock, listening. For shuffled footsteps or for her lamp to flicker on and her to huff in frustration as she rattled through her closet. A second later, her room was illuminated. Her head popped out the window, thick braid slipping over her shoulder as she leaned out too far, searching the dark for me.
“Jude?” she whispered.
I bit back a laugh.
“Ransom,” she hissed.
She was wearing teddy bear pajamas that hugged her body and left little to the imagination. I shook it off, but the smile couldn’t be helped. My lips twisted. “Teddy bears?” I said, enjoying her jump as I stepped out of the shadows. “Cute.”
“You’re such an ass.” She disappeared back into the room.
When she came back she was wearing my sweatshirt over her pajamas. The one I’d given her months ago when I picked her up from prom. She tried to give it back the next morning, suspiciously not sick, but I pushed it back into her hands. For no reason other than it looked good on her, even if it was twice her size and swallowed her thighs.
“Your grandma bought them for me on her trip to Korea. She loves me.”
“Mhm.” She did—love her, that is. I don’t remember the pajamas, but I do remember passing along a substantially large bag of gifts specifically for Solace. Even though my own grandmother had gotten me nothing.
The teddy bears were cute though. I ran a hand through my hair, trying not to smile like a complete idiot even though she made one of me. “Grab your shoes.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you. I can’t.”
