Glitch (Next Level #1)(23)

Time flies when you’re having fun.

I pad quietly into her kitchen and put away the rest of the groceries we’d abandoned. Then I make myself useful for a little while. By the time I’m pulling pizza out of the oven, Ara’s blinking sleepily at me from the doorway. “What are you doing?”

“Making dinner,” I say with an easy smile. She’s so perfect. Her hair’s a knotty mess on her head, and she’s put on little shorts and an anime t-shirt with the neckline cut big, so it falls off her shoulders. All she’s missing is the tube socks.

“I thought you’d left.” She looks confused.

I gently close her oven door and rest the pizza on her stovetop. “Do you want me to leave?” Not gonna lie, my heart’s in my throat waiting for her answer.

“No, I just…”

“Thought I’d have my way with you and skip out once your guard’s down.”

Her silence is confirmation enough.

Jesus, she must have dated some real fuckheads to automatically think that of me. “I didn’t stay so you’d suck me off, either.” I fear that’s where her head went next. “I honestly just wanted to stay and make dinner.”

“At two am?”

I’m not sure what’s happening here, or why the atmosphere between us has changed. “If you want me to leave, I can g—”

“No!” She cuts me off. “Ugh.” Ara scrubs her face with both hands and groans. “I’m sorry. I’m fucking this up, aren’t I?”

Yes and no. I’m not even sure. “This is a lot. I get it. And that’s my fault.” I cross my arms over my chest and lean against the counter.

Ara comes into the kitchen, her shoulders slumped. “I’m in my head again. It keeps happening.”

She wasn’t in her head back in the bedroom.

Or was she?

I suddenly realize Ara’s an enigma I might never fully figure out. Maybe that’s okay. Or maybe I need to give us more time. Probably both.

“I feel like I’ve known you forever,” I say cautiously. “Is that weird?”

“No.” She comes even closer. “I feel the same way. I just wasn’t gonna say it.”

“I should probably get going.”

“But you made pizza.”

“I figured you’d be hungry. And thirsty.” I point at the glass of water with ice I’d left on the counter. I was going to bring her dinner in bed, but she woke before I was done setting things up. I think she figures that out when she sees the origami rose next to and the glass, both set on a cookie sheet because I wasn’t sure what else to use as a tray to bring it all to her.

“You’re taking care of me,” she whispers. This is the second time Ara’s referenced what I’ve done in a way that makes it sound like a phenomenon.

Her eyes sail to mine, and I see she’s close to crying. Only instead of come-too-hard tears, these are more delicate. Vulnerable.

“Heyyyy.” I close the space between us. Cupping her face, I swipe my thumb over her cheek to catch her first tear. “Why are you upset?”

“I’m not upset.”

I feel like a piece of shit. I’ve gone overboard and shouldn’t have. I just thought I’d read her right, and she wanted what I did, and now I’m afraid I’ve misunderstood the whole thing. “You look upset, Ara.”

“I’m just so mad at myself for not asking for your number sooner.”

Her confession shocks me.

“I can’t tell you how many times I’d log onto Discord and go into our channel, Glitch. Then I’d chicken out on saying anything and close it.”

“I was no better.” The energy between us shifts a little. The tightness in my chest slightly eases. “I should have put myself out there a long fucking time ago, Ara.” Instead, I kept my distance and nearly lost her when she started dating someone else.

“No more dragging our feet,” she says. “Promise?”

“Sooo, we’re getting married in an hour?”

Her laugh warms my body from tongue to toes. But I’m only half joking. I’d marry her on the spot, right here, right now, if it was possible. I know Ara’s meant to be mine.

Her cell buzzes in the living room. She looks over, her brow furrowing.

“You gonna answer?” If someone was calling me this late, I’d be worried.

“No.” Her tone is guarded.

Annnd now I’m on high alert. Does she already know who that would be, calling her so late? “Is there something going on I can help with?”

“No.” But she’s cagey again and I don’t like it. “I’ve already handled it.”

If that was true, she wouldn’t be having this reaction to a middle-of-the-night phone call she won’t answer. I bite my tongue because if she doesn’t want me to know, that’s her decision and I’ll respect it.

“It’s Jason,” she says. “I’m almost sure of it. He does this sometimes. I’ve blocked him, but he uses other people’s phones to call me from.”

“Maybe you should check to be sure? What if it’s a family member or something with an emergency?”

She gives me a long, solemn look, then pads over to the couch and digs her phone out. I turn and plate two slices of pizza, so I don’t look like a rabid guard dog foaming at the mouth. Ara comes back in and takes her plate from me. “It was him.”