Every Other Weekend(89)
Of all the stuff I’d said that night, those two words seemed to hurt him the most.
I went to my room without another word.
Jolene
Adam’s dad had found his spine at the cheesesteak place, and he wasn’t losing it anytime soon. The “family night” he referred to wouldn’t be fun for either of them. Either way, we’d said goodbye, and I lingered in the hallway, eyeing the door to Dad’s apartment like it was Pandora’s box and if I opened it, all the evil in the world would come rushing out.
Or, you know, Shelly.
“What is it with you and hallways?”
I turned my head and there was Guy, casual as could be, leaning against his doorframe. “Me?” I asked. “Are you talking to me? I thought we’d moved on to barely nodding at each other in stairways.”
“Come on. Don’t be mad about that. You were heading out. I figured you wouldn’t want me explaining that you spent your birthday with me after I found you crying alone out here.”
The memory of that night stung. “So you ignored me for my benefit? Thank you for that. Let me repay you.” I turned and walked down the hall—away from Dad’s apartment. I made it only a few steps when I slowed. That direction didn’t hold many more options for me than the other one did.
“I wasn’t ignoring you. I didn’t want to embarrass you in front of your boyfriend.”
“Adam’s not my boyfriend.”
“Whatever you say, Jolene.” Then he stepped to the side, leaving the door to his apartment wide-open. “You want to come in or...?” His gaze slid past me to rest on the door to Dad’s apartment.
What I wanted was to hang out with Adam, but that door had literally been shut in my face. My other option wasn’t an option at all. And Guy knew that.
It would have been awkward to explain how Guy and I had met. Plus, Adam’s dad might have gotten the wrong idea, and it wasn’t like I needed to give him another reason to dislike me. Adam might have gotten the wrong idea, too, and I definitely didn’t need that.
Sometimes, when I thought about it, I got the wrong idea. Even though Guy hadn’t done anything besides feed me and listen to me. He hadn’t tried to touch me or anything. The whole thing was innocent. And I needed his help if I was going to submit my application for the film program. Still, it nagged at me that I had to mentally tell myself that it was okay for us to hang out.
“Yeah, I’m coming.”
We ended up watching a movie. It was an old black-and-white film that didn’t make a lot of sense to me. Guy loved it. He kept commenting on the brilliance of a camera angle, or a line of dialogue that I had to admit was impressive. He wanted me to watch another movie after that, and when I said sure, he pushed himself off the couch by putting one hand on the armrest and the other on my knee. The touch lasted like two seconds tops. He didn’t look at me or let his hand linger or anything. But I still jumped a little. I mentally shook myself, grateful he hadn’t noticed my reaction, as Guy busied himself switching the movies.
Remote in hand, Guy joined me back on the couch, where I was still sitting rather stiffly despite telling myself to relax. “Cold?”
I shook my head.
“You look cold.” His upper body leaned over mine, against mine, and my breath strangled in my throat. Guy didn’t pull back. He turned his head and flicked his eyebrows up at me. “I’m just grabbing you the throw.” He drew my gaze to a fuzzy gray blanket that I hadn’t noticed. He was already fisting it in his hand when I looked, had been since the second he leaned—not over me, but past me. I tried to shrink back into the cushion, worried that he’d suggest I leave because I kept freaking out over nothing. But he didn’t.
He dropped the throw, and his hand sank into the cushion by my thigh. He was still leaning across me, so we were face-to-face when I looked up. “Jolene. You don’t have to be scared around me. I have an idea of what your life is like. I get it, okay?” He shifted, and my leg rocked against his wrist. “I know what it’s like to feel like no one wants you, like you don’t belong anywhere. You don’t have to feel like that. I don’t care what’s going on out there.” He jerked his head toward the hall. “It never gets past that door. You can always come here. Do you believe that?”
No. It was stupid. He was trying to force a bonding moment between us. He was being so serious, like I was fragile or something. He barely knew me. I belonged everywhere. Wherever I wanted to be.
He stayed just as close to me, but I stopped worrying about it. He was acting concerned about me, which, maybe he was. Maybe I’d given him reason to be, considering my birthday meltdown. He didn’t know that had been a onetime thing. A weird convergence of events that had erupted in a never-to-be-repeated way. But the concerned look on Guy’s face, and the way he’d lifted one hand to my shoulder and rubbed tiny circles on it with his thumb, made me realize he wasn’t going to take my word for it. He’d been nice, or what passed for nice to me, and even though I was growing uncomfortable, it would make him uncomfortable if I said anything; that was the last thing I wanted.
“You’re offering your apartment as a neutral zone. Got it.” Then I pointed toward the TV. “We should probably start the movie though, before it gets too late.”