From the Jump(70)

CHAPTER 20


I don’t know how we forget that Simone spent the night. Maybe we’re distracted by the strangeness of waking up in each other’s arms. Or maybe the real distraction is that it feels so right. My pulse quickens as Deiss takes me in, studying me in the watery morning light like he’s unsure how I’ve appeared in his bed. I feel a flair of panic that this is it, that this is where we pretend last night was a drunken mistake. But then he smiles and traces a trail of kisses across my shoulder before pulling me under him.

“I’m not making your coffee,” I say firmly, after we’ve made love and he’s trailing me toward the door, his arms wrapped around my waist. “I only make it for you because you always order dinner, but you haven’t provided that service in two days.”

“Please make me coffee,” he murmurs into my ear. “I promise to take you out tonight to make up for the neglect.”

A smile stretches across my face, so wide I’m grateful he can’t see it. Deiss might not mean it like a date, but I can’t help hearing it that way. I can’t believe I’ve slept with someone without having first established a committed relationship. But there’s been a lot of stuff over the last couple of weeks that I can’t believe I’ve done, and while I can’t exactly claim it’s worked out, it has been exciting.

“I can’t.” Somehow, I manage to wipe the disappointment from my words. I do have plans, so I’m not trying to play hard to get, but there’s no reason to let him know I’d love to fashion myself into a backpack and dangle from his shoulders for the rest of my life. “I’m going home for tea with my mom.”

Behind me, he’s quiet. I reach for the doorknob.

“Can I come?” He says the words softly, but they still make me freeze. “I’d love to meet her.”

My fingers fall from the metal knob and I turn slowly to face him, his grip around my waist keeping him close enough that I have to look up into his face. My bare legs brush against the jeans he’s pulled on from the floor. “You want to meet my mom?”

Deiss nods.

“It’s a three-hour drive,” I say. “Each way.”

“We can make small talk,” he says with a lazy grin. “We’re good at that.”

This time, I can’t hide my smile.

“Okay,” I say, spinning back toward the door before he can be blinded by its full wattage. “We’ll go on a road trip.”

I swing the door open, and the smile falls from my face. Simone is sitting on the far end of the couch, facing us. Her legs are triangled under her arms like she’s trying to ride out an earthquake. Her face is one hundred percent betrayal. It makes my stomach clench, and I pull loose from Deiss’s grip, dismayed that we’ve managed to be so careless. Nervously, I wrap my arms across my chest, wishing I was wearing a baggy t-shirt instead of this skimpy tank top. At least I’m wearing a shirt, though. Deiss’s chest is guiltily bare.

“I knew it,” Simone says bitterly. “I knew you were sleeping together. You started in St. Lulia, didn’t you?”

“Good morning, Simone,” Deiss says. “I hope you slept well.”

“We all made a pact. Do you remember that?” Simone’s scorching eyes follow him as he walks into the kitchen to start the coffee. “You vowed to care more about us and our friendships than your restless dick.”

“Okay,” I say, cringing. “Let’s take this down a notch.”

“You know this is going to destroy her, right?” Simone barrels on, ignoring me. All her attention is focused firmly on Deiss. “She’s not like us. She doesn’t have anyone else. When you drop her, she’s going to end up all alone.”

Her words cut sharply, making me want to speak up again. But what would I say? We all know she’s right. I haven’t joined an organized sisterhood or cultivated a following on Friendsta. I haven’t bonded with bands or built a home for fellow music lovers. I’ve kept my world small. Cubicle-sized.

“So, I won’t drop her,” Deiss says coolly.

“Please.” Simone sneers. “Your longest romantic relationship was with a Blow Pop.”

“Okay,” I say again. “This is not productive. Deiss, can I please get a moment alone with Simone?”

“Yeah.” Deiss looks uncertainly between the two of us like he doesn’t like the idea of leaving me alone with one of my oldest friends. Finally, he rubs his hand over the back of his head. “I need to go to the shop anyway and make sure they cleaned everything up after the concert. We’ll head to Brantley when you’re done.”

Without waiting for his coffee, he grabs a t-shirt from his room, pulling it over his head as he passes between us. I catch an expression of longing on Simone’s face that mirrors my own. The loft goes painfully quiet when the door clicks shut behind him, and I feel a pang of distress at the loss of him and how quickly our romantic morning has deteriorated.

“I’m really sorry,” I say, filling the silence. “I’m sorry that we upset you, and that we broke the pact, and I’m especially sorry if you had to hear anything we might’ve done while we were in his room.”

“We.” Simone scoffs. “Do you have any idea how stupid you sound right now?”