Every Other Weekend(101)

And the door opened across from us.

Guy. He had a trash bag in his hands. He saw us, his gaze sliding to where Adam held my hand, and I pulled it free. Guy didn’t say anything, just turned and headed down the stairs, but I knew with stomach-souring certainty it’d be the first thing he mentioned the next time we were alone.

The door that opened next was Adam’s.

There was his dad, dressed as nicely as Adam, and Jeremy, who was in the process of lynching himself with his own tie.

“Morning, Jolene,” Adam’s dad said. Jeremy was too busy fighting with his necktie to do more than glance in my direction and give me a head nod.

“Morning.”

“Hey, why don’t you come with us?” Adam said before his jaw flexed and he forced himself to turn to his dad like he was out of practice and the muscles in his body were resisting. “If you don’t mind.”

“We’d love to have you,” his dad said, and I actually believed he meant it. When Adam looked back at me expectantly, it was too much. I was supposed to be giving his family the space they needed, not inserting myself into more of his life.

“Thanks, but I don’t have anything to wear.” I gestured at the yoga pants and oversize Chewbacca-wearing-sunglasses sweatshirt I had on.

Adam’s gaze never left my face. “It doesn’t matter what you wear.”

And he couldn’t even make it easier for me by being a jerk. “Maybe another time, okay?”

With a nod, Adam’s dad held out an arm for his sons to precede him. Jeremy gave up on his tie and tucked it into his pocket before starting down the stairs.

I expected Adam to leave just as silently, but he didn’t. Instead he brushed my hand again. Right in front of his dad. It made me grin as he left, though I shouldn’t have let it.

And I was still grinning when Guy came back.

“Guess that went well.”

I blushed as red as Adam ever did. “We were just talking.”

“Sure,” Guy said. “So you want to come over and just talk to me?”

The heat from thinking about Adam ran cold.

Guy laughed. “It was a joke, Jolene. Sometimes I forget how young you are.”

“I didn’t think it was funny.”

“Right, because I need to watch more comedies.” He unlocked his door and pushed it open. “I’ll let you pick this time.”

I perked up at that. He didn’t sound like he was in a bad mood, and anything was better than going back to the apartment with Shelly. Plus, I hadn’t gotten to choose a single movie that we’d watched so far, and Guy’s taste ran more art house and old. He had nearly everything, and I settled on What We Do in the Shadows, a vampire mockumentary that might or might not have made me laugh so hard that I’d peed my pants the first time I watched it.

We were both laughing on his couch before long. Just about the time Taika Waititi was placing newspapers around his date/meal-to-be so that her blood wouldn’t stain his carpet, Guy paused the movie.

“I feel like pizza. You want?”

Not glancing away from the TV, I said, “Sure, if you’re buying.”

“And what if I said you need to pay?”

“Then I’d say I’ll have to settle for digging through your fridge instead.” I started to get up but Guy tugged me back down.

“I’ll cover the pizza.”

I grinned. “Thanks.”

And then Guy kissed me.

I pulled back immediately. “What are you doing?”

He laughed, stood up, and headed to the kitchen, where he’d left his phone. “You don’t think buying the pizza’s worth a kiss?” He tapped the screen. “What do you feel like? Sausage and peppers? Pesto chicken...”

Not really listening, I lifted my fingers to my lips. I looked up to find Guy’s eyes on me.

“Come on, Jo. It was just a little kiss. Don’t you ever kiss your friends? You looked like you were about to kiss your other neighbor earlier.”

“Yeah, but he’s—”

“He’s what? Your boyfriend?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then what’s the big deal?” He slammed his phone down. “You kiss some friends but not others? Or am I wrong and we aren’t friends? ’Cause you’re over here a lot for someone who just wants a letter out of me. And if you’re going to jump every time I sit next to you—”

“I don’t—”

“—or give you a casual peck, then there’s the door. I have better things to do. Maybe you should go back to your apartment and—”

“Mushrooms,” I said. “Can we get mushrooms on the pizza?” My ears were ringing, and I was clutching the pillow in my lap.

Guy shook his head slightly and looked at his hands splayed on the counter.

I closed my eyes, then opened them. “And I’m sorry. You surprised me is all. You’re right, it was nothing and we are friends. I do need you to write me that letter, but I also like coming over here. Please don’t make me go. I don’t—I have nowhere to go. Please.”

We held eye contact for long seconds, then Guy picked up his phone and dialed. Still looking at me, he lifted it to his ear. I didn’t start to breathe again until he said, “Yeah, for delivery. Mushrooms.”