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He exhales sharply. “No… I was at the bar with some friends earlier, and then I went back to his place.”
“And he just let you walk home by yourself?” My blood boils, fingers twitching with the urge to hit something. Hit someone. Hit the fucker who dared to use him. “What the?—”
“It’s not even a mile.”
Thunder rumbles, as if reminding me—prompting me.
“Wait, isn’t it storming there?”
“Nope, went around us. It’s just some light rain. What about yo?—”
“Fucker at least could’ve called you a cab before kicking you to the curb.”
He coughs. “Wow. Okay. First of all, he didn’t kick me to the curb. It was my choice to leave. I don’t do sleepovers. But glad to see you still see me as some pathetic loser who gets taken advantage of. And second, what is this, Sex and the City? Call me a cab, really?” He scoffs. “Plus, I can take care of myself, thanks. See, there’s this little app thing called Uber, and?—”
“Then why didn’t you?” I cut in.
“Because I like walking?” He says it like a question.
“It’s the middle of the night.”
“It’s not even eleven.”
“There are tornado watches all over the state. It?—”
“And would you look at that, there’s my building. Home sweet home, before any twisters can have their way with me, and drop a house on my head.”
Damn, he’s on a roll tonight.
My lips press into a hard line, and for a long moment I just stand there, frozen.
Through the phone, I hear rustling, and the slam of a door. Keys jingle, and there’s heavy footfalls and loud breathing.
A door creaks open moments later, closes, and then it’s silent.
One second passes.
Two.
Then—
“How much did you hear?”
“Enough.”
“Great.”
Lightning flickers through my window, filtering my room with jagged white shapes, before it’s dark once more. From the sounds of it, the rain and wind have yet to let off.
I clear my throat. “So, um, when?—”
“When what?”
Try as I might, the words won’t come.
He huffs a short laugh that is anything but amused. “Ah. You mean when did I stop being meek, virginal JJ who could barely hold a conversation with anyone who wasn’t you or my family?”
I fumble for words. “Wh-what? Jer… that-that’s not?—”
