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CHAPTER NINE
NADIA
We spend the next seven days fused at the hip. This is supposed to be my first real spring break since college, and I planned to spend it catching up on lesson plans, snacking in bed, and maybe taking a crack at the mountain of laundry in the corner of my studio. Instead, I pretty much move in with Jay and Salty.
Jay is hellbent on spoiling me rotten. He makes my coffee every morning before I’m even out of bed. Then a little later, he’ll make a full breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast. While he works in his home office, I spend my time doing pretty much nothing with Salty curled up in my lap.
At night, we snuggle together on the sofa, his arms caging me in while we watch horror movies or reruns of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. It’s ridiculous, how easy it is. How normal. How I already know where he hides the good snacks and how he knows not to talk to me until I’ve finished my morning coffee, unless he’s prepared for full-volume sarcasm.
We fight over the blankets. We disagree about the correct orientation of the toilet paper roll. Jay makes a point of leaving his socks everywhere just to watch me hunt them down and throw them in the laundry basket. We laugh constantly. He kisses me every time he walks past, like he can’t help himself.
The week is a blur of little moments, and by Friday, I’ve half-forgotten that the outside world exists.
That’s when I hit my pre-workweek panic. I realize my lesson plans are still only a list of vague ideas in my Notes app, and I have a three-inch stack of third-grade reading journals to grade before Monday. Jay’s in his home office, and I am stretched out on his sofa, surrounded by piles of folders and my lesson plan book. Salty is lying in the one little beam of sunlight shining through the huge living room window.
Jay comes out of his office, gray sweatpants slung low on his hips, hair rumpled, and blue light reflecting off his glasses. He surveys the explosion of school supplies on the coffee table, grins, and sidles up behind me. His hands slide over my shoulders, and he starts kneading, working out the knots with slow, practiced pressure.
I nearly melt into the table. “I swear to God, if you keep that up, I’m going to turn in blank lesson plans and wing it.”
Jay leans down, breath warm on my ear. “Maybe I should stop then.”
“You do, and I’ll sic Salty on you.” My head lolls back so I can look at him upside down.
He kisses my forehead and looks at me, all dark eyes and lazy smile. “How much more do you have to do?”
“Just one more reading log, and then I have to map out the next week’s science lesson.” I glance at the clock. It’s already two pm.
He looks amused. “You know what I think you need?”
“Better organization?” I suggest, straight-faced.
“A break,” he counters, tapping the end of my nose. “And some adult conversation.” He sits next to me on the sofa and wraps his arm around my shoulders. “My brother texted me,” Jay says casually. “He wants to meet you. He said, and I quote, ‘Bring your girl, and let’s do a double date at Rosalie’s tomorrow at seven.’”
He watches me, waiting for my response.
“I’d love to meet your brother,” I blurt out before I’m able to change my mind. This relationship is moving at warp speed, and I’m going to just hold on for the wild ride.
I don’t freak out until we’re in the car on our way to Rosalie’s.
“What if your brother hates me?” I ask, clutching my purse like a life raft.
“He won’t,” Jay promises, one hand on the wheel, the other finding its way to my thigh. “Or I’ll kick his ass.” He gives my leg a little squeeze.
My nerves spark and buzz as Jay pulls the SUV behind the diner. He’s out in a heartbeat, opening my door, his hand warm and steady as he helps me step down. My fingers tangle with his, and suddenly, it’s like every hair on my arms is standing at attention.
We walk together into Rosalie’s Diner, and the warmth and noise hit me all at once. Everything is Texas small-town perfect with whitewashed brick, retro booths with fat red vinyl cushions, and a chalkboard menu hanging on the wall. It’s packed, but Jay, always prepared, called ahead to reserve a booth. The waitress smiles at us and points to the last booth in the back. “Your table is ready. Have a seat, and I’ll be right over.”
“Thanks, Susan.” He walks me straight to a reserved table, and we slide into a red booth. My heart spins faster than ever as I wait for his brother to arrive.
At first, I don’t see anyone who looks like Jay’s twin. Just as I start to relax, a woman with glossy brown curls and a boho dress stops next to our booth. She’s gorgeous, curves for days, and her eyes light up when she sees Jay.
“Hey, stranger!” she calls, voice low and musical.
Jay stands and gives her a quick hug, then gestures for me. “Nadia, this is Poppy Lane. Poppy, this is Nadia Mirewood, the woman who finally tamed me.”
Poppy laughs, a sound so big and infectious. “Oh, I like her already. Anyone who can keep you out of trouble is a friend of mine.”
She turns her gaze on me, and I immediately know we’re going to be good friends. She radiates warmth and intelligence. “Hi, Poppy,” I manage, sticking out my hand. She shakes it firmly, then gives my shoulder a little squeeze.
