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“Please. Just call me Jesse.”
Chapter 3
Vivian
“So,” I started carefully, “is Jesse supposed to be short for anything?”
“James,” he answered, voice like rich honey, deep and smooth and mesmerizing.
I laughed nervously. “Isn’t that a syllable shorter?”
He shrugged his massive shoulders. His suit jacket looked like it was struggling to contain him. “That’s just what my mother called me. Somewhere along the line, it stuck.”
We walked alongside each other, a respectable foot and a half or so between us. Even still, I was enveloped in the scent of his cologne. It wasn’t overbearing, but subtle. Sophisticated. Manly. I knew for a fact that Wally still used that cheap Axe body spray, the type that hurt my nose when he used too much of it. Jesse, in contrast, smelledgood.
And it was definitely more of a problem than I anticipated it being.
Something inside me was stirring that I couldn’t explain. Every time I glanced at him, the butterflies in my stomach went crazy. A tight, wet heat bloomed deep within my core. My fingers itched to reach out —just once— for the chance to touch him, driven purely by curiosity even though I knew it was wrong.
I couldn’t allow myself to feel…whateverI was feeling. Jesse was my ex-boyfriend’s father. I didn’t want to give in to temptation and become a walking romance novel cliché. Yet my brain shut off every time he so much as looked at me. My breath caught in my throat every time he spoke.
Common sense, go ahead and throw yourself straight out the window.
I’d met Jesse only once before. Wally had invited me to meet his father some time around Christmas at a formal, get-to-know-you sort of shindig. If my calculations were correct —which they always were— we’d been dating for about two months by that point. It was high time Wally introduced me to his family.
It was alright. Uneventful. A little boring.
At least, that's what I told myself after the fact.
The truth of the matter was, I was so mesmerized by Jesse when I first met him, I could barely bring myself to utter a word. What was I supposed to do? Admit that I couldn't stop thinking about my then-boyfriend’s father?
Yeah, no. Absolutely not.
I didn’t think much of it after that. Once Wally and I broke up, I figured I’d never see Jesse again in such close quarters. Imagine my surprise when he swooped in at the bar to save me from being harassed. What were the chances that out of all the bars in Chicago, we’d end up running into each other?
We walked up to a white Porsche 911 GT3 in the parking lot beside the bar.
“Whoa,” I gawked. “Damn. I wish I could afford a ride like this. It’d take me…” I did the math in my head. “It’d take me twenty-five and a half years to pay it off.”
Jesse raised his eyebrows at me. “That’s some quick calculating.”
“You seriously drive this around? Aren’t you afraid someone might steal it?”
He shook his head. “State of the art security system. Tracker’s built right in. They wouldn’t get far.” He said this so casually that it took me by surprise. The nonchalance, the air of indifference despite the vehicle’s value… must have been nice. I hoped to one day achieve the same level of financial freedom.
He held open the passenger side door for me. “After you.”
A couple of onlookers were gathered on the sidewalk, staring at the two of us as we climbed into the vehicle. I felt simultaneously embarrassed and inexplicably… good? Excited. Important.
It was a fleeting sensation, though, once I slid into my seat and found myself inches away from Jesse. The smell of his cologne grew that much stronger in the enclosed space.
I was honestly afraid to touch anything for fear of breaking something. I’d never be able to pay for the repairs.
“Buckle up,” he ordered.
I tried to pull my seatbelt down, but the mechanism locked. I tried again, but it wouldn’t budge. Mild panic gripped my throat. Why couldn’t I handle something as simple as putting on my seatbelt?
“Um, Jesse? It’s not…”
