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He coughed and cleared his throat. “Coffee?” He held up a French press.
“Heck, yes.” I paused. “So I guess you know the whole story now about why I wanted rebound sex after Wes before I go on my trip.”
“I’m sorry, Ari,” he said again.
“What for?”
I didn’t look him in the eye. I was distracted by the flex of his arm muscles as he pressed down on the plunger.
“This isn’t pity, okay? I think you’ve had a shitty experience, and no one deserves that. On behalf of all men, I’m sorry.”
I snorted, unable to stop my lips curling up.
Jet smiled back. “Milk? Sugar?”
“Just milk.”
He smirked as he poured two cups of steaming hot coffee, adding milk in both and handing one to me.
“You sweet enough?”
“Ha. ha. Nah, just bitter.”
He added two sugars to his mug with a wink. “I’m not.”
A shot of heat went straight between my legs. I hastily stirred my coffee to avoid meeting his gaze.
My teaspoon fell into the sink with a clatter. “Want to go back to the van? Mum might appear at any moment, and I don’t feel like dealing with her right now. Especially after her outright lie about being my sister.”
For a second, I thought he’d say no. The van was cramped, too intimate, too messy.
“Sure,” Jet agreed, his face neutral.
I headed straight to the back door and out into the yard, noting how dark the sky was. Another storm was rolling in. He caught me easily, slid the van door open and stood aside, waiting for me to go first.
“Why are you being so nice?” I blurted, flustered being so near him.
“Because I am nice.” He frowned.
I was careful not to spill my coffee as I stepped up into the van. I sipped it, and oh yesss, he knew how to make a wonderfully strong, hot brew. Praise be to caffeine.
Hewasnice—more than nice—but what happened now?Was he still expecting sex?I groaned, not quite believing I’d thought that.
“I’ll leave right after the coffee,” Jet said. “Didn’t mean to stay so long.”
I looked up, and our eyes locked. A pang of sadness settled in my chest.Why would I miss someone I barely knew? That’s just absurd.
One drop, then two, and then thousands of raindrops pelted down the van. We both looked at the van’s pop-top roof as the rain came down in sheets and thunder crashed as lightning lit up the sky.
“Wait, you had a motorbike?”
“How’d you know that?”
“You had a helmet and your jacket.”
We were both yelling to be heard over the storm.
“Bike’s at the pub. Ryan said it should be safe locked up in the beer garden. I owe him for that.”
