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CHAPTER 15
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Igive myself a little pep-talk as I get ready to leave the house. Being looked after by the boys isn’t such a burden for me. It actually makes the whole situation with Celia more bearable. But that morning, for some reason I did feel like I was too much. It made me want to hide under my covers and not see anyone at all. Nobody could be in Charlington with me at that moment and I couldn’t even go to Roots as Dean had some training at the culinary school a few towns away. So there was some planning to see who I could stay with that morning. The solution was that Jonah would drive me over to Kinseltown to drop me off at Gil’s, who would take me along to Dominium where he has an appointment with some representative from a certain beer brand. O would come pick me up when he was done with work and take me back to Charlington. That shit’s just complicated. I don’t care that they love doing it for me, but it reminds me a little of a kid of divorced parents being shuttled back and forth.
I walk out the door to see Jonah leaning against his car while he’s scrolling on his phone. The brown strands of his hair fall down over his face and I take a moment to appreciate such beauty so early in the morning. Some people love watching sunrises, I love watching my, well, whatever it is Jonah is to me at the moment. My insides warm as he immediately lifts his hand to greet me as he sees me. Like a true gentleman, he opens the door for me when I arrive at the car. I give him a small peck on his cheek when I get in the car.
“Good morning, Mor.”
“Well, yeah, it’s morning, but I won’t say it’s good. Ask me again in two and a half more coffees,” I mope, which makes him smile. He climbs in behind the wheel and starts the engine. Once he turns the key, music starts playing. Really loud. I squeeze my eyes shut and slam my hands over my ears as I try to shut the sound out.
“Does it have to be so loud?”
“Damn Mor, have you been hanging out with Miss Frieda or something? You act like you’re eighty.”
“Take it back! I don’t.”
“Do so.”
“Not!”
“So!”
“Okay, now I’m certain you don;t act like you’re eighty. Turns out we’re now acting like a bunch of five-year-olds.”
That makes me giggle and he’s smirking at me when I glance at him sideways. His brown eyes hold a certain playfulness I love seeing in him.
“Why is your music playing so loud at this time of day anyway?”
To annoy me even more he turns the volume up and drives away. “I like to give concerts in the car. Like, sing along really loudly. Air drums and air guitar when I’m standing still in traffic. The other commuters really like it when I give them.”
“Are you sure they appreciate it?” I hesitantly ask. I remember Jonah’s singing when he was a teenager. I mostly remember it being off key and out of tune, but perhaps it had something to do with puberty and the change of his voice.
“Most of them smile, so they appreciate it.”
“Do they smile because of your concert, or because of you in general?”
We drive over to Main Street, and he stops to let some pedestrians cross. “I’ll give a concert in a bit, and you can find out for yourself.”
A wide grin spreads on my face as I listen to our playful banter and I sit back in my seat, putting my feet on the dashboard. While Jonah starts to sing along loudly to The Bloodhound Gang’s Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo. I’m relieved that we can have this uncomplicated friendship even after we've slept together. While I’ve said I’m not looking for love, sex could complicate things in a friendship. Especially for me and my overthinking head. Jonah has said he’s fine with whatever I want and that he has nothing serious to offer, but I somehow expected that to change after sleeping together.
He starts to air drum along with the music and sing really off key and out of tune and I grimace. Guess it didn’t have anything to do with puberty after all.
Gil’s apartment is in a three-story building in downtown Kinseltown. Jonah hands me over to Gil, as they go over the schedule of who needs to pick me up and drop me off like I’m a kid with divorced parents. When Jonah leaves, I walk after Gil and start climbing the stairs to the third floor.
“It’s not much, but it’s all mine and I like it,” he says as he opens a red front door with one of the keys on his keychain. I step inside when he holds the door open for me. I focus on the important stuff first: There’s a black cat laying on its back on the couch. Her little paws are white, and demanding I go over to cuddle it.
“You have a cat!” I squeal in delight as I hit him in the arm. “Why didn’t you tell me you have a cat?”
“There’s a lot of things I haven’t told you about myself. Maui is my favorite Disney character; I don’t like broccoli and I think Converse All Stars are just as bad as Crocs when it comes to shoes. But I haven’t told you about Missy because it just hasn’t come up. It’s not like she’s my dirty little secret.”
I look at him through the tiny slits my eyes have turned into. It’s a little hard to believe that there hasn’t been a moment in the last few weeks to talk about the little ball of fluff, but I choose to focus on the important part of what he said.
“She’s called Missy?”
“Yeah, it’s short for Mistress.”
I snort.
