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I rolled my eyes behind closed lids, feeling the exact dread in my stomach I had for the past two days. “I like you. Iwant tobe friends. I like hanging out with you.”
“Apparently, you like fuckin’ me, too—”
“No!”
“No?”
“No. I’m not sayingno. I’msaying—I feel like you said. It’s different.”
He lowered his chin, one brow peaking. “What’s different?”
“Our arrangement.”
“You’ve never had sex with a dude who wasn’t ya man, Witherspoon?”
“Once or twice, yeah, but that’s not what I mean—that’s actuallyexactlywhat I mean, Jas! With you, it’s different.”
He straightened, now peering at me from above his nose. “How?”
I swung my head, trying to gather my thoughts. “I think you’re cool.”
Jas eyed me warily. He didn’t understand and neither did I. For a while, our eyes bounced against each other, warring in inarticulation.
“I’m good on it, Witherspoon. It’s all good.”
Wanting to change the subject, I gestured to the books in his hands, trying to avoid his naked torso, and asked, “Where were you going?”
“To the theater room to read before I fall out.”
“Is that where you read?”
He nodded. “Sometimes.”
“Okay. Then don’t let me stop you.”
Those brows shot up again. “You leaving?”
“Not unless you want me to. I can use a quiet moment. I flew in a few hours ago and had to make a few stops, including my studio. I haven’t been home yet. Your theater sounds cool. Can I see it?” Jas’ face wrinkled. He was likely confused. “I’m in no way plotting to get into your pants, man. I don’t even have condoms…and I know your virgin ass don’t either.”
With a puzzled expression, Jas managed to put on the t-shirt draped over his bulbous shoulder.
“Right this way.” He crossed me to continue to the room.
Trailing behind him, I soon learned it was on the lower level on the opposite side of the family room. The theater sat six people with oversized swanky leather seats. My dad’s sat ten. Jas adjusted the lighting so he could read. I took the seat next to him, placing my purse on the floor and minutes later, kicking off my heels. He cracked open one of the books and began his journey, it seemed. The energy between us crackled in the noiseless room, but it was nothing sexual. Though I couldn’t quite define it, I knew it consisted of confusion and a lack of communication. We simply didn’t know what to do or say to improve the energy.
Eventually I closed my eyes, just to center myself and take advantage of the silence. Jas’ manly scent surprisingly didn’t ruffle me in a way I couldn’t try to relax. I could do this. Sharing a private space with Jas without any expectations felt great.
Then there was rapping behind us. Juggy leaned into the doorframe. “Yo, the food Consuela said she left still here?”
“Yeah.” Jas shared, his face still in the book. “It’s in there. I had some lasagna and rice and beans earlier.”
“Oh, a’ight.”
Then I blurted, “No vegetables?”
Jas peered over to me. “There’s some mixed vegetables in there.”
“But you didn’t have any.”
