Page 68 of The Irresistible Distraction

THE APPLE OF MY PIE, À LA COLD

True to his word, Jesse comes over at five in the morning. He politely knocks this time, despite the fact that he just yesterday reminded me that he has and always has had a key. He potters around the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets while I gather my keys and remind Jesse of when, exactly, Sebastian has to get to school.

“Why are we allowing him to go to summer school again? He could have joined a basketball camp.”

I glance at the clock, knowing this conversation is more important. “I don’t think Sebastian has any interest in basketball, track, or really any sport.”

“He needs exercise.”

“And Brody’s been jogging with him each morning.”

“Jogging. Sebastian . . . is jogging?”

“It’s probably more of a walk than a true jog, but yes.”

Jesse considers this for a half minute. “Jogging with Vera’s nephew isn’t exactly a team sport.”

“Neither is track. And we agreed to let Sebastian take history in exchange for Principal Swenson’s approval of double math next year, remember?”

“Dominic Swenson. I keep forgetting he’s the principal at Rim High now. God, that kid was such a tool.” He stops when the Keurig finishes his cup of coffee, adding two ice cubes before taking a sip. “I assume you’re getting coffee at the diner?”

“Yeah,” I agree, thinking this will be the first latte-less morning I’ve had in over a week.

“And we’re sure doubling up on math is the best path for Sebastian? Given how quickly he’ll run out of classes at Rim High, I’m not sure there’s a point in accelerating.”

I rub my eyes, because it’s an argument we’ve had before, and one there is no winning. No, I’m not sure what the best path for Sebastian is. And also no, I don’t love that it always comes down to my certainty, my ability to predict the future.

“We agreed that we’d support whatever Sebastian said he was most interested in, right?”

“I guess.”

He leans forward to kiss my cheek and I hold still, trying to gauge whether I feel anything for him physically. I’m motionless for a second, or a fraction of a second, longer than I should, but that’s all he needs to misinterpret.

Jesse puts down the coffee cup and leans forward, his hands already coming to my hips, only stopping after our lips have met and I’ve stumbled away.

“Apologies, I thought . . .”

“I’m sorry, I—” I think about Brody’s words last night and find myself taking a deep breath. “I’m not sorry in that I am admitting guilt. I mean, neither of us did anything wrong, per se. I just . . . I should get going.”

I’m at the door, my hand on the doorknob, when Jesse stops me, grabbing my arm just lightly enough to communicate that he wants my attention.

“It’s not my place to judge any romantic relationship you might be having⁠—”

“Then don’t.”

“But—” Jesse pauses, and I could take it as an opening to leave, to get on with my day. But I don’t. I allow curiosity to get the better of me.

“But?”

“I called Tyler about it last night and then did some googling. If I’m not mistaken, Brody is a well-regarded Beverly Hills attorney who was once engaged to Vi Shindler.”

“Yes.” There’s no need to elaborate, because I’m certain anything Jesse might say will just reflect my own insecurities.

“Do you really think there’s a chance for something longer term here? With Vi Shindler’s ex-fiancé?”

“Ouch.”

“This is a man who’s used to dating models and employing an entire staff to see to his needs. More than that, his career is in Beverly Hills.”