Page 39 of Fractured Heart

“I…um…dropped it in the forest,” I lie.

“Oh, Roonie,” Tate says sympathetically. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll sort it out.”

I flush, hoping he doesn’t plan to search for my nonexistent phone.

“We’re going to be late,” Charles grumbles. His eyes meet mine, boring into me and suddenly making it hard to breathe. “Bye, Roonie.”

“Bye.”

“See you later, Roo Roo,” Tate adds, and then they’re both gone.

I turn around to face JJ and realize he’s staring at me intently. The kitchen island separates us, but other than that it’s just me and him alone in the apartment. For a second, my body heats, but the feeling is quickly replaced by fear. I know JJ has no reason to hurt me—he hardly even knows me—but then again, I hardly know him.

“Roonie.” His tone is serious and holds a note of warning.

“You want me to leave, don’t you?” I try to keep the quiver out of my voice as I stand. “I’ll just go pack my stuff and…” I trail off. I don’t even have any stuff, just the silk pajamas, and those aren’t really mine. If I’m being honest, neither are the clothes on my back. I literally own nothing. Just Mom’s fractured necklace and a twenty-dollar bill.

“That wasn’t what I was going to say.” JJ rounds the counter, intercepting me.

“It wasn’t?” I take a nervous step back and JJ quickly backs away, too.

“I was going to apologize. For last night.”

“You were?” My eyes widen. “You really don’t have to. This is your apartment. I just—”

“You’re a guest,” JJ says with finality. His acceptance of me and my staying here floors me. “And I really didn’t know you were sleeping on the couch. That’s not how I usually wake girls up.”

His suggestive tone makes me wonder how he might want to wake me up. Which of course makes me think of Sleeping Beauty.

Tonight, a prince awakened me

With much more than a kiss

I only get half a verse out before I realize I’m singing. My hand flies to my mouth, like I can somehow stuff those words back in, and a flush creeps across my cheeks.

“Much more, huh?” JJ winks. His eyes dance. “So, you’ll let me make it up to you? Once you have some of my omelet, you’ll have to forgive me.”

“It’s okay. I can make breakfast for us.” I jump to my feet.

“I got this.” JJ grins. “How else am I going to impress you?”

“Why would you want to impress me?” I ask, eyes wide.

“I can think of a lot of reasons.” JJ crosses the distance between us. I remember the way Charles grabbed me each time we kissed—the way Tate pulled me into him and teased me with his lips—and I swallow hard. “Let me cook for you, Roonie?”

His words hardly register but I nod anyway. I would agree to anything JJ asks at this point.

JJ grins and rounds the counter, leaving me staring at his retreating back. It takes a few seconds for my breathing to return to normal and by the time I slide back onto the bar stool, JJ’s got the entire countertop colonized with a glorious mess of ingredients.

JJ snatches two eggs from the carton and juggles them for my benefit. I would be terrified of dropping them, but JJ doesn’t seem concerned. It’s clearly all for show because he sets them right back down and turns to the vegetables. Using a knife that is unnecessarily large for the job, JJ expertly slices them, his hands a blur. Isn’t he going to cut himself moving that fast?

Miraculously, JJ doesn't spill any blood—or any ingredients. He cracks and beats the eggs at breakneck speed. When he dumps everything into the pan and it sizzles, he takes a bow, and I applaud. JJ wasn’t just cooking; he was putting on a performance.

When he’s done, he plates a dish that rivals both Chez Caviar and Pizza al Volo. He sets it down in front of me with a flourish and reaches for a strand of my hair. I expect him to tuck it behind my ear, the way Charles and Tate did last night, but he gives the strand a gentle tug instead. My stomach does a somersault.

“What do you think, Roonie?” he asks, his tone seductive. “Did I earn your forgiveness?”

I nod, mesmerized, as he takes a seat next to me. It’s the same barstool that was occupied by Charles during our first kiss.