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It wasn’t the beer giving me this warm, light feeling. It wasn’t drunkenness that made me pause every few minutes to look at Vincent, with his hair wild around his face and paint all over his hands, and feel such a deep adoration that my chest ached.
My head was still spinning when he brought me home. He pulled over down the street from my house, where he barely had a view of my front porch.
“I really hate that I can’t walk you to the door,” he said, frowning as he held my hand.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I mean, it’snot, but I don’t know if I’ll manage to sway my mom on this.”
“Don’t worry about it, baby,” he said, giving me that easy smile that always made me feel a thousand times better. “It’s not your fault, so don’t feel like it is.”
I nodded, even though I did still feel guilty. Mom’s behavior may not have been my fault, but she still came with me like an unpleasant package deal. The boys had been trying their best to tiptoe around her, and frankly, they shouldn’t have had to.
“Thanks for the adventure,” I said, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “And for...everything.”
We laughed through our messy kisses for a moment, and when I opened the door to get out, he said again, “I love you, Jess.”
Those words...God, it made me feel like my heart had been punted like a football, flying high through the air.
“I love you too.” My response left my tongue tingling. First Manson, now Vincent...but I paused for a moment, biting my lip.
Vince noticed. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s just...you all make me so happy,” I said. “But make me feel differently, too. Like I couldn’t compare the way I feel about you to Jason, or Lucas. Except...I can in some ways. In one way, I do feel the same about all of you.” I swallowed hard as I looked at him, wondering if he’d managed to make any sense out of that word vomit.
There was one feeling they all inspired in me. Two of them, I’d been honest with. The other two...
“Every relationship moves at its own pace,” Vincent said. “Even the ones happening in tandem. Don’t worry about someone getting jealous or feeling left out, but if you are, talk to them. Manson and I wear our hearts on our sleeves. Jason and Lucas are a little harder to figure out.”
The tension went out of my shoulders, and I said, “Thanks, Vincent. I’m still getting used to how this all works.”
He shrugged. “I am too. We’ll probably be figuring it out our whole lives, but that’s okay. We’ve got a lot going on in that lump of gray flesh up there.” He tapped the side of his head. “Well, most people do. Sometimes, mine is stuck playing elevator music for hours on end.”
I laughed as I got out of the car, closing the door behind me and waving at him through the open window. Before I walked away, he quickly added, “Hey, Jason is meeting you for the gym in the morning, right?” I nodded. “Try to keep things upbeat for him tomorrow if you can. It’s...it might be a rough day.”
“A rough day?” I frowned. “What happened?”
Vincent grimaced. “He’ll talk to you about it if he feels like bringing it up. Just, uh...distract him?”
I gave him a sly smile. “Oh, I can certainly do that.”
If I hadn’t had to work in the morning, I would have gone with him back to their house to sleep. Sleeping in my own bed, alone, was getting significantly more difficult. I missed the warmth of them around me. I missed waking up early to have coffee with Lucas. I missed wearing Jason’s clothes around the house.
Coming home didn’t feel warm and welcoming like going to their house did.
As I walked in the door, Steph was setting the table for dinner, complaining as she did. “But, Mom, it’s notfair! Olivia got her extensions put in last week. Why can’t I get mine done tomorrow? Come on!”
Her whining was already getting on my nerves. Mom shot me an odd look as I came into the kitchen, automatically getting out a stack of plates since my sister had barely set out the forks.
“Where have you been all day?” Mom said sharply, looking me up and down with a suspicious expression.
“Out with friends,” I said, setting the plates around the table.
Steph was still griping, and Mom finally sighed and said, “Fine, sweetie, fine, I’ll switch your appointment to tomorrow.”
Good grief, was that the trick to getting Mom to do what I wanted? Be as whiny and annoying as possible? Except, that literally had never worked for me. The way Mom handled me versus how she responded to my sister was depressingly different.
But at least it made Steph stop nagging. We sat down to eat, but that weird tension emanating toward me from my mother wouldn’t quit. She kept sniffing, as if she smelled something bad, wrinkling her nose and huffing.
“Is something wrong?” I finally said, after she loudly sniffed and made a face yet again.
