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Romi was right. As soon as dinner was over, Jack made sure he was put
on kitchen duty with her while everyone else went back to the deck to relax
and work off the massive meal with good conversation and lots of laughter.
“What’s up? You’re being weird,” Jack said as he scraped a dirty plate
into the trash below the sink.
Romi turned, pushing food around on the plates instead of scraping it all
off into a centralized one to be dumped. “No, I’m not. What are you talking
about?”
“Outside. When you were talking about work. You got all red. Right
here.” Jack cut into her line of vision and poked a finger into her cheek. She
pulled away in annoyance.
“You’re such an ass,” she grumbled.
“That might be true, but you know I’m right, which is why you’re getting
all defensive right now.”
“I’m getting defensive because I don’t like to have your dirty finger stuck
in my face.”
“That might also be true, but you’re blushing again. I can tell the
difference between pissed off anger and regular blushes. So, what’s going
on? Is there someone hot there?”
“Stop.”
“So there is.”
“Nope.”
“So there is, but she’s straight.”
Romi picked up a plate, dodged past Jack and started scraping into way
too forcefully into the trash. Even she winced when the fork grated against
the poor plate. “I’m not talking about this. It’s none of your business.”
“But you’ve always talked to me about this. More than you’ve ever
talked to Emily or, god forbid, Mom and Dad.”
Romi shuddered. The plate was empty, so she grabbed another and did a
less forceful job. “I just…you know what happened with Michelle. I’m just
